


Cats, Bats, and Maniacs

by WiltedBlueberryMuffin



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman Begins (2005), DC - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cats, Crazy, F/M, Gotham, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kittens, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV First Person, Pets, Sarcastic Humor, Son of Batman, Superheroes, Villains, dc, romantic/sexual encounters, some curse words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiltedBlueberryMuffin/pseuds/WiltedBlueberryMuffin





	1. Once Upon a...Me

Everyone's story starts somewhere. A car wreck that left them paralyzed, mommy and daddy didn't pay enough attention to them when they were little,(poor them...) or somebody was just plain _mean_ to them. All interesting ways to start something. Well, all but maybe the last one. Everyone has their bullies. But anywayyyy...I'm getting off track here. Let me get back to what I was talking about. My 'origin' or 'beginning' or what-the-hell-ever ya wanna call it.

    See, for me, things started quite a bit differently. I didn't get made into some family who lives in sunshiney fields of tulips and roses. I wasn't even born on a nice day at all. The day I was made, was almost exactly like the day that got this whole shabam started to begin with. Rainy. Why? Because that's ALL Gotham ever does. Is RAIN! Pouring down rain as if somebody took the sky's favorite toy away, lightning was filling the sky with lotsa BOOMS and BANGS! My mom, a beautiful, dark, sleazy bit of fur, was out on her usual prowl, heading after some priceless statue or vase or something. It just so happened to be in Poison Ivy's territory, and right at the same time that somebody else had to come crashing in. See, mom woulda got what she wanted just fine if HE hadn't shown up. Although, I wouldn't have become the vendetta child I am today if he hadn't shown and screwed up everything.

    Take a guess who. I'll give you a hint: What's tall, dark, and covered in boring?...THE BATMAN, of course! He came crashing in through the wall like some bumbling idiot, when mom was literally only inches away from her prize. Had he not shown up, I'm sure it all would have been just fine. But nooooo....THIS happened instead:

    _Seconds from reaching the priceless emerald rose that she had come for, a loud crash drew her attention away. Blowing her away as well, knocking her from the wall. Catwoman let a growl as she struggled to get out of the rubble from the wall, though was only immediately in more trouble the moment she got herself free. Batman was facing off with Ivy. Behind him, a vine slithered, curling as if it had a mind all its own, or as if it were some kind of snake._

_"BATS LOOK OUT!" Catwoman knocked the Dark Knight out of the way only just before the vine could have impaled him. They were both just recovering, when the rest became history. Together the two fought off Ivy, in her own lair. A fatal mistake, which neither took the time to realize. Of course, Catwoman left without the prize which she had intended on stealing in the first place. As she most often ended up doing, when Batman became involved. He was the one other man in her life who she actually held some shred of respect for--aside from Wayne. Ironic, being they were one and the same._

_"Thank you, Catwoman." his voice was low and dark as ever, his expression hard-set. He never seemed to change. It was hard for him to have to thank her, and she knew it._

_Catwoman only responded with a smirk, passing him with a kiss to the cheek, and a purr. "No need to thank me, Bats. I was just paying back the last time you saved my skin. So now we're even." She stalked over to the ledge of the roof, looked back at him, and grinned. "Besides, I made up for it." laughing as she dangled his utility belt, Catwoman blew him a kiss, then lept off the roof. Calling back "Ciao!"_

_This encounter was quite the same as the others they had had. Batman had come to expect certain things. This is why he'd prepared for her antics by bringing a backup belt. Though he knew to foresee this, he did not foresee the most dangerous thing that night. Ivy was furious, and was going to get her revenge._

    See, no one ever expects a villain to get revenge on another villain. What is even more unexpected, is when a villain uses _other_ villains to get her revenge on the villain she happens to be ticked at. Hard to wrap your mind around, isn't it? I thought it would be. Anyway, back on track here.

    Mom never ended up getting the emerald rose thingie she was there for. Typical, if you ask me. That thing could have made mom RICH. And I mean...RICH. But, I wouldn't be here otherwise...so I suppose I digress.

    After the night when Ivy was completely torn to shreds in her own growing ground, she began working. First of all, mom tells me Ivy seemed to vanish almost completely for a few straight months. No one seen hide nor leaf of her, not a spore. This, was because Ivy was working. And working _hard_. Seeing as Poison Ivy apparently had a bone to pick with a few other of Gotham's baddies, I guess that's where her idea came from.

    The 'idea,' being for her to use her mind-control spores on other villains, to get them to deal with my mom. She had something else cooking up for the Batman, though I'm not sure yet what exactly that was. To deal with my mom, to enact her vendetta, Ivy's "big plan" was supposedly to have the two other villains she was ticked at pinned against mom. She was trying to pit The Joker, The Riddler, and my mom all in some kinda death-match thing.

    Which, unfortunately for my mom, was working. After being lured into a well-set trap, Ivy began to enact her stupid...her revenge.

With two against one, my mom was having a really hard time. I mean, they were being controlled by an outside force, so it really wasn't going to be any kind of fair. Even if they were thieves and murderous super criminals, I thought there was some kind of saying about there being 'honor among thieves,' or something like that. Oh well.

    Mom did her best, but thanks to the giant plant biatch running the show, mom was wayyy overpowered. Like some kind of...sick video game. Again!! Ironic,I know, seeing as they were all against morality anyway...but, yeah.

    I guess eventually Ivy got bored with watching Riddler and Joker turn my mom into their own personal yarn-ball, because this..well, this is where _I_ come in.

    _Hello_! Hey! Yeah, the criminal gang rape child over here!...I hope you can imagine my sarcastic, idiotic waving and my dumb expression, because I am being completely sarcastic here. Just so ya know.

    _Sick_. I hate plants.

    I'm going to shoot her in the face, first time I see her. KA-BAM! No more Poison I-B*tch!

....Ahem.

    The story of how I came to be doesn't stop here, though. Nah, it has even more irony to it. So hold onto your seats, kiddies.

    The story of how I got here takes its own kinda twist. I mean, to me, even more twisted than the Joker's mind. I mean..eugh. Whatever. Next, after my mom somehow ended up getting out of there alive, this...is what happened.

    _Catwoman was beaten so badly, it was hard to make out exactly who she was, through her blood. Ivy was very unhappy, and her means of revenge showed it. Every so often, Catwoman could hear Ivy calling down "This is what you get for destroying my babies!" or "I hope that hurts, it's what you get for teaming up with the BAT you traitor!" This is what was echoing through her ears as she drug herself out of the alley she was dumped in. Shaky, barely able to breathe, and covered in wounds. She could barely make a comprehensive thought come together as to what had just happened, her memory was already beginning to scar over, shielding her from it--as it did many events of her life. As Catwoman collapsed at the edge of the alleyway, rain was hitting her like tiny, stinging knives. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out aside from a rough, warbled mess. A huge pool of water began to collect around her, leaving her face submerged in water, her black hair sopping wet and shifting with the gathering puddle. How she got away from where she was, she had no idea. It wasn't but a few days later when she finally began to wake up. Settled in a big, clean bed. Her wounds wrapped and attended to. She was clean as well, and her hair had been done up nicely so as not to get tangled again. Just as a familiar face entered the room, confusion began to fall away from her face. Somehow, she'd been taken from her almost grave, and brought into the company of possibly the kindest Brit she'd ever met._

They let my mom stay there, the Wayne Manor, for quite awhile. Long enough for her to learn that she'd become pregnant with a child of questionable conception, long enough for her to refuse to tell them what had happened to her, and then...Long enough for my mom to end up kicked out. Some chick who was apparently with the Wayne man came with _her_ newborn. Surprise! It was Wayne's. Well, the chick didn't like the fact that there was another-pregnant- woman there. Mom tells me that she slapped the dude, refused to have anything to do with him or the kid, then slammed the door, after leaving the baby with the butler.

Now, I'm no relationship expert, but I'd say that wasn't something that was supposed to happen. I'd say that was probably the end of theirs. _Fa-ni-to_.  El ende, or whatever.

It was after that, that my mom was 'asked' to leave. More like had to, from my observation. But hey. What does an unborn fetus know? ..Haha...yeahh...I ain't no fetus now, and I know better. Much better. My mom got the shaft 'cause they blamed her for the other bitch walking out. ( _Aw-kwarddd_...normally it's the daddy who goes bye-bye..)

So that's why my mom got kicked out. It's not as if she did anything to them. Noo. She just had to go because the other one got a wild hair up her you-know-where. Fortunately, I have good news.

About a week after my mom was kicked out of that snotty manor, the lady who caused it died! This is good, because now I don't have to go kill her.  Obviously, I would've wanted to. But oh well. At least she's gone now. That's all that matters, right? Well, maybe all that matters. I would still love to meet the man responsible for putting my mom back out while she was pregnant with me.

In any case, this is how I came to be. All the wondrous glory that is me! Though a bit of a cliche I may be, don't call me a mary-sue darlingggg...because then, you know, I'll have to kill you! Ahahaha...Okay, maybe I won't kill you. But my point remains. This is how I _got_ here--and now, you all get to see what's gone down since then! So buckle up...and don't be afraid to look into the darkness...because that, is where the _real_ fun begins.


	2. Wednesday

Twirling my hair around my fingertips, about a thousand ways to commit a thousand crimes wander through my mind. Each with their own levels of complexity and or mystery to them. Why all my thoughts seem to pool around two certain things, mom won't tell me. All I can think of is that I may be subconsciously obsessing over other Gotham villains aside from my mom. Whatever.

As my dark hair falls through my fingertips, and I lay back on our couch to groan out of the sheer enormity of my boredom, a familiar jingle comes my way. A smile crosses my face when my eyes open. Thankfully not one of my crazy grins. I don't know what's up with that, but mom says sometimes I get this real crazy grin on my face and I just freeze for some reason.

Coming across the floor, I see the most adorable ball of fluff that this whole crummy city has to offer. My colorful kitten, Wednesday. Wednesday is the sweetest cat I have ever seen, although when I found her two months ago, she was almost dead. The thought of it turns my stomach inside-out--I found poor little Wednesday trapped under some garbage that some idiots left in an alleyway. Almost crushed, she was. Until I found her. Fortunately, Wednesday has been alright, other than a limp she hasn't been able to shake. I'm still working with her though.

Once Wednesday reaches me, she begins to sniff my face. Her whiskers tickle my nose, which makes me sneeze. She looks at me oddly, as I reach out my fingers to her, to try to pet her head. "Sorry, Wendy.." I mutter. She accepts it by purring, and rubbing her face on my hand. Of course, I take this opportunity to scoop her up and cradle her, before putting her on my stomach.

"Haha! All mine now, Wednesday. Whatcha gonna do about it? Huh? Whatcha gonna do? Uh-huh. That's right! There's nothing you can do. Now stick 'em up!" Just as Wednesday sits down, and lifts her tiny paws in the air (something I taught her how to do myself) my mom comes in the door.

"Kiara, are you robbing Wednesday again?" there's a bit of a laugh in her voice. I know she finds it nearly as funny as I do. Looking up at mom over the arm of the couch, I flash my most innocent smile.

"Nooo...I wasn't robbing Wednesday. She was the one robbing me! The little joker."

Mom's features crumple, and I almost wonder if it was something I shouldn't have said. Usually, my mom is the most beautiful woman in Gotham, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Selina Kyle, by name. She's tall, slender, and has curves that go on for _miles_. Her long black hair, though it doesn't carry the same odd green sheen to it that mine does, accents her fair skin and bright blue eyes perfectly. How every man in this dump of a place hasn't fallen head-over-heels for her, I don't know. The nerve of that Wayne man...I think he must have fallen on his head. Once his witch of a b*tch left him and his kid, he should have taken the opportunity to pick up my mom--instead of kicking her and unborn me out.

There comes that boiling anger in the deep pit of my stomach again. Or..am I hungry?

"Of course you _weren't_ ," mom finally answers, after setting her bags down on the kitchen table. Leaning on the arm of the couch, she reaches over and places a little fishy treat on Wednesday's nose. "I find it hard to believe this little one could bring you any trouble though, Kiara. After all, you're Gotham's next feline fatale in training, you should be able to take on a kitten with a limp!"

Mom laughs, moving some of my hair out of my face. I roll my eyes, ignoring her joke. Instead, my mind wanders onto other things. More _exciting_ things.

"Hey mom!" I start, sitting up excitedly. "I can go out with you tonight right? Pleaseee?" My eyes widen, Wednesday mewling in protest at me when I move. I made her fall from her spot. "Sorry, Wednesday," I say, ruffling her fur, before I turn back to begging my mom. Last time, I kinda..sorta..almost got us caught. What can I say, they were funny. Trying to catch us, but stuck all in the icky goo I made up for them. Stinky too, _paheee-eugh_!

In any case, I ended up in a laughing fit loud enough to wake the dead. I couldn't stop, and for some reason, I didn't care at that point. It was as if the whole world had exploded in my head, and everything was becoming some kind of joke. All hold I had on everything snapped--so, yeah, mom had to come get me, before birdy boy got to me. He said something as we escaped, though I don't recall anything but making some kind of face at him and shaking my ass at him as a taunt. Also to make the tail whip back and forth. It's fun!...But mom wasn't too happy with me. She told me she was not going to let me go out with her anymore unless it was to get groceries. Which, for me, ain't gonna fly. I have to get out! I have to stretch my claws! And of course, I have to trap the Robin with them--so I can toy with him just like any cat would with her prey. Then...Then I could get into his mind, scramble it so even his own thoughts were written in riddles, and so that he could never even figure out himself. Ha!

"Moooommm....you HAVE to let me go out! I can't stand staying inside all the time. I was meant to be free! To make the city my scratching post, like you do! Pleaseplease _pleaseeeeee_..."

I whine, dramatically falling over on the couch with my hand to my forehead. Mom rolls her eyes, sauntering off to the kitchen, then hopping up on the counter and going to get herself a drink. Wednesday paws my face before jumping down, leaving me with a nic on my lower lip from her back claw. "Traitor!" I call, before getting up off the couch and slinking into the kitchen.

Laying on the floor, I look up at mom and bat my eyelashes. This would mean a lot to me, because not only would it mean a shot at trying to redeem myself; mom is planning on hitting someplace HUGE tonight, and I wanna be a part of it. Besides, my favorite featherless birdy friend and his big, boring, batty companion have quite a big chance of showing up. A re-match with our vigilante playmates always sounds appealing to me.

It takes her awhile, but mom finally looks down over the counter at me, smirks, and answers me by dumping her water on my head. At first I pout,(of course after all my sputtering and coughing up water is done..) until mom jumps down, and I hear her call over her shoulder with a laugh.

"Only if you can keep up, and not until _after_ you dry off. And, no--" mom added, peeking around the corner at me. "Wednesday can't come with us." 


	3. Perfect Night

Tonight, mom has pretty much her biggest theft EVER planned. I couldn't be more excited than I am right now, even if we were to rob a whole catnip shop! (Yes..even though I am not a cat _per_ _se_ , I do love catnip..)

We are hitting a storehouse full of new Egyptian cat exhibits for the Gotham museum. Things from all different eras of power. Tutankhamun (Mr. Tut..), Cleopatra, all the Egyptian greats. According to mom, they've got everything from golden cat statues, slabs of Egyptian hieroglyphics...um...everything! That's why I'm dying to go.

"If your hair is dry now Kiara, go suit up." Mom says as she passes by me, zipping up her own suit. I nod and grin, dashing off to get my suit. It's really special to me, my suit. It was originally my mom's first Catwoman suit. Then she gave it to me, and I added a few of my own..modifications to it. All to fit in with _my_ theme. See, I came up with my own name to go by. Mom loves it--she even started calling me her little 'death berry' when she first heard it.

"Ready yet? Kiara, we have a limited time frame!" Mom sounds impatient, but I can't help it. I want to look perfect for this. Black lips - black as night. Long dark ponytail - it's perfect for whipping in the face of those you happen to be fighting. (Believe me, that's fun.) Skin-tight, form-fitting, black spandex..y stuff. A skirt of my own making, which happens to have a double use. -- If I fall off a building, or need to jump off quickly, I can whip off my skirt, and use it as a parachute. I think it's brilliant.

The rest of my outfit is composed of small boots (for my unfortunately tiny feet...) that reach up to my thighs. They are surprisingly comfortable, and help me when I need to make my getaway. Well, when I have no other choice, anyway. But oh well, that can be part of the thrill too. Lastly for the main make-up of my suit, is my mask. I am particularly proud of it, as I designed it myself, using one of mom's old masks as a base for it. Mom seems to like my suit too, she says that as far as klutzy novice-type kids in training go, I at least have a great costume. Which, I suppose is something I can be proud of. Yay!

"I'm coming mom, I'm coming. I had to look just so, you know." I laugh somewhat, striking a pose when I enter the room. Mom laughs, then tosses a pillow at me.

"Stop goofing. It's time we be off. Tonight's the _purrrfect_ night, you know, kitten." Mom grins, hopping out the skylight. (Our usual route of entry and exiting when on the prowl.) Following up after mom, I raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What do you mean by that, mom? Don't we still have a chance of seeing the bat and his bird boy show up to ruin everything?"

Her grin grows. "Nope. Joker has been..shall we say, working harder than usual. I'm going to say we should be in the clear, my dear." with that, mom flicks my nose, then hops off the building, motioning for me to follow. I do...in my own style. (Running for a head start, then leaping off the edge at the last second.. Mom calls me risky. I call it fun..)

Tonight, is going to be _a night to remember._

Leaping through alleyways, rooftops, and off cars; the whole way there is nothing but a thrill for me. Although my reality keeps wigging out on me, causing me to see the whole place as some kind of odd, clowinfied wreck, I somehow make it just fine. Even though I almost run headlong into a cotton candy elephant, that turned out to be a really hard brick wall...

The place mom and I are heading to, is on the northern part of the city. It's more remote than our other pilgrimages have been, but something about the creepy atmosphere of it all is appealing to me. I take a deep inhale of the fog, exhaling slowly. "Yep! I could totally call a place like this home," I state once I reach mom, who is cutting open the window on the roof to give us a way inside. Due to the highly valued items inside, mom informs me that the place has a security system wired up, and that I'll have to be careful. Mom wasn't lying when she told me that this was going to be a special night. I'm getting goosebumps all over again.

"Nightlock, darling..you say that at every spot we rob. You really need to make up your mind. You know you can't live everywhere." she laughs at me good-naturedly, before becoming serious. All I answer with, is a roll of my eyes and a bit of a pout, before I step closer to take a look.

"The whole place seems to be strung up with some kind of laser, trip-wire deal. " Mom observes, using the cat's eyes of her mask to help get a more detailed picture of what we're dealing with. "That means we're going to have to be extra careful with where we step. The last thing we need is for you to end up in a cage again," she shoots me a smirking glance. "Mommy won't always be here to bail you out of the kennel, you know."

" _C-A-t_.." I answer with a bit of a groan. I address her this way, because she's asked me to. So, mom is either Cat, Cats, or Catty, when we are out hunting.

"I'm not going to get caught, so long as we don't just stand here like a bunch of pigeons on a statue. Can you just give me an idea of what all we want to go after? I know there's going to be some stuff we don't want down there."

"Tonight, you go after anything you like. If you can get it home in one piece and not get us caught tonight, then I'll let you pick something to keep from your haul."

Now is my turn to grin. "Great!" With that, I descend down the hole in the window. I let myself free fall most of the way down, before finally grappling my way onto a grate. Had I not done that, I would have had one of two outcomes. One, I would have landed on the red laser light beneath me, or two..I would have hit the floor. SPLAT! No more Nightlock.Yeah...thank God my mom gave me a few grappling hooks as well. Funny thing is, she stole most of them off of the Batman himself. I find that hilarious actually--but I find it funnier, that my favorite one seems to be the one I stole off Robin. It's so shiny..and colorful! Odd, i should hold such a fascination for a thing owned by a 'mini hero.' Oh well.

Seconds after I drop to the floor, I can hear mom crawling around the catwalks above me. The clinking of mom's boots against the metal crating is somewhat soothing to me. Especially since I am in the middle of coughing my lungs out due to the dust covering this stuff. I am about to move away from my area, when something sparkly catches my eyes.

"Oooh lala...what do I have here?" Tilting my head to get a better look, I pocket the necklace. It's so pretty, I'm not letting anyone else have it.

By the time the sunlight begins to break across the sky, mom and I are springing across the buildings and on our way home. With the wind whipping through my ponytail, I can't help it. The thrill is amazing. Even though something does seem to be missing. It's hard to put my claws on, but I figure it out later, when I'm laying on the couch with Wednesday. Tonight was the best night ever, to be certain. Though it was missing something. A huge part of the thrill. There was no one to fight. We got away so...easy. I think, too easy. Wednesday's purring doesn't distract me from my thoughts when I go to look out the window. The Bat-signal is shining in the sky, still visible in the slowly lightening sky.

That's when I figure it out. I miss being chased around. It makes things a lot more fun.

A pout crosses my lips as I watch, and I make a resolve then. Tomorrow night, I'm going bird hunting. After all, a cat's greatest prey is a bird, and I miss toying with mine. 


	4. Charity Ball

My dreams are getting out of hand. For some reason, I wake up each night at about the same time. The same, horrible sick feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. It's especially bad on my birthday. My nightmares are so..crazy. I hear an awful, echoing laugh. One, much like the one that comes from me when I'm going through one of my strange episodes.

Among the laugh, I can hear so many questions. No, they're not really questions...I think they're more of, _riddles_... actually.

Ones I can never solve.

When I finally wake up, Wednesday is sleeping on my forehead. My breathing is ragged, and I feel sick. "Move..Wendy.." my voice cracks, and I sit up, causing her to fall to the side. She protests, though I can't help it. I head off to the bathroom as fast as I can, before I end up getting sick. Mom comes into the bathroom and frowns softly. I haven't told her about my nightmares, though it's almost as if she already knows about them. I had planned on heading out to get in some fight time with the do-gooders of Gotham, though I suppose my plans are going to be cancelled. Mom would have gone out tonight as well, though she apparently has some kind of business to take care of, that involves her other profession. Ironically, charity work. I still can't get over that.

"Kiara..do you want to come with me? Or, would you rather stay home with Wednesday?" mom squats in the floor beside me, rubbing my back. When mom wipes some of the cold sweat from my forehead, I'm even more certain she knows about my nightmares. Though I'm not sure I feel like going anywhere today after my sleep terror, and just getting sick, I know she is just trying to make me feel better. Wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I shrug, and clear my throat.

"Depends..where are you going?"

Mom brightens somewhat. "I am going to a charity ball today--" the moment she says that, I pout. Mom has been trying to get me to go to another one of those things with her for as long as I can remember. The last one I went to, I was seven. I haven't been to one since, mostly because some brat decided to dump the punch bowl on me, and I nearly drowned. From _punch_.

"Now hold on, Kiara. I know you don't like them, and I know you're not one much for people. But I want you to think about it for a moment..please? An old..friend of mine is going to be there. And I would love for you to meet him. Plus, if this gives you any more motivation.. I believe his son will be there. And you never know, he might be pretty cute," mom nudges me playfully, and I groan. Rubbing my stomach, I give her an odd look. "Oh come on, as if that doesn't make you curious. I've seen the googly eyes you make at Rob-in. You know you can't hook up with him, so why not give this a chance instead?"

Even though I am pretty sure my mom is joking around with me to try and lighten things up, I can't help but to feel exceedingly annoyed. I do not make eyes at Robin, I fight him. If I just so happen to end up pinning him in a compromising-looking position, then that's whatever. It's not as if I've got a crush on him or anything. He's just fun to fight. What's wrong with having a preferred goody-goody that you like to pulverize? I don't see anything wrong with it..

"Mom!" I snort, giving her my most disapproving scowl that I can. Se recoils, but only to give me her big puppy-dog eyes. "I'm not..I'm not going to...UGH. Fine! I'll go. But stop trying to pair me up with strange boys!" I fold my arms, looking off to the side. Mom ignores my protests, and hugs me tightly. "No promises."

It's apparent to me that all mom wanted to do in getting me to go to this big fancy thing, is to dress me up. She is taking complete advantage of the whole "formal dress code" that this ball has. Pulling my hair up in some impossible style I didn't know she could even do, I can barely get her to let me leave down my bangs. I prefer to hide behind them as much as possible, and she knows this.

As for my face, after I am all cleaned up and medicined up for my stomach, mom goes right to work. Taking hold of me, she paints my face up until even I don't recognize myself anymore. Mom says I am beautiful--all I see is glitter.

To go with this person she's made of me, mom digs out one of her favorite old dresses, and helps me into it. It is a bit snug around my waist, I don't know how I feel about the sweetheart line and the bare back, and it too, is glittery. Mom looks so happy though. I am glad it isn't pink, so I smile and pretend to love it as much as she does. After all, I guess I can get used to wearing this shade of red. I do get the feeling mom is poking fun at me with the color--it is as red as the chest of a robin. Ha, ha, ha.

To finish up my ensemble, I have on a pair of shoes I can barely stand in, mom painted my nails, and I fished out my necklace taken from the warehouse the other night.

When I look in the mirror, I am almost stunned at myself. I mean, I've never allowed mom to gussy me up before; I have been far too obstinate each time to cooperate. I almost--almost--wish I'd let her do it before now.

I of course am not allowing it to happen ever again after today. Though she did a nice job.

"Wow..this is.. Um.. wow, mom." I try to give her a smile, and she just grins. After finishing her work by spritzing me down with some kind of sweet-smelling perfume(with body glitter in it..yay..) she hugs me tightly. "You're going to be the most beautiful young lady there, I'm sure of it." The pride in her voice is almost unbearable for me. I am suddenly terrified, I am going to let her down. I just _know_ I am going to fall and break my face. That, or I am going to end up not getting along with mom's friend or his son. I am no good with people, I know that. All I seem to be good at is antagonizing the heroes I run into as Nightlock. Antagonizing, I apparently can do. Conversation, c i v i l , conversation.. I am far too skeptical of myself about that.

I simply bite my lip, and give her an uncertain look. "I really don't know about-"

"Hush, you will be. Or I will tan your tail. Now get, it's mommy's turn!" mom smirks at me, slapping my rear to get me out of the bathroom. I yelp and stick my tongue out at her as I leave the area, rolling my eyes.

It is only when I am out of sight that I let my expression fall. My nightmares come flooding back in, and I am quite suddenly afraid. If I have an episode while we're there..what will that do for mom's rep? She has to keep her good outer image, or people will ask questions. All the ways today can go bad race through my mind, and I have to fight myself to keep from gnawing at my freshly painted nails. It will take all of my feline strength to get through this, and I am hoping it all goes well. After all, I can rob a bank and fight Batman--THE Batman--and escape with only minor scratches. One would think I could go to a charity event and at least fake my way through it.

Or... can I?

By the time I am about to doze off on the couch, my mom is finally coming out of the bathroom. For just going to a charity thingy, she looks almost like an angel to me. Mom is wearing a black dress that is a lot like mine in how it is fashioned, though hers has red accents to it instead of black like mine. Her jewelry is a lot different than mine, though. It is all mostly glittering gold, which makes me raise a brow in curiosity. The shape to her necklace makes me giggle. I am _so_ going to be getting her back later for teasing me about Robin.

Mom's hair is mostly down and curled, and her makeup seems to be purposely outlining her eyes, a catlike look to them which only adds to the sharp look the rest of her makeup carries.

"Ready to go yet, Kiara?" Mom asks, resting a hand on her hip. Over her shoulder is strung her jacket. In hand, she has mine.

"Oh, sure." I nod, standing up slowly. Already wobbling on my feet. "I'm so ready to go to a big place full of a lot of snotty rich people," with that, I push my nose up, toss my head back, and try to walk around. Mom laughs, slapping me with my jacket.

"Sarcasm not _needed_ , young lady. Not all of them will be so horrible, you know. If I can get along with most of them without openly baring my fangs, then I think you should be just fine. Besides, this is not just an outing to get your mind on other things. I'm testing you again."

My ears prick up and I suddenly become more interested. Mom picks up on this, nodding and folding her arms, her hip resting on the doorframe. "Yes, Ki. A test, all for you. I want to see how good of a pick-pocket you really are. Your dress has places hidden in it for your finds, I expect to see some dough when we get home, Missy."

"Oh, I'll do better than that, mom," I stick my tongue out at her defiantly. "I won't just get a few bucks here and there. I'm going to nab me a whole _wallet_." Mom raises an eyebrow at me. As if she thinks this is bold for me; as if she thinks I won't try it simply because I have never been able to get and keep an entire wallet without something going awry. "What? Don't think I can?" I ask, tossing my jacket over my shoulders, before I (wobble) waltz out the front door. "I'll show you, miss spoil-my-fun." Mom rolls her eyes at me. She really must think I can't, or won't, do it. I'll show her. If she's not nicer to me, I might even nab the goods off this friend of hers that she's having me meet.

The charity event is far from our house. Hosted by none other than the illustrious _Wayne Foundation,_ the place looks like some kind of palace to me. There are golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, diamonds glittering on them that catch my eyes first thing. Aside from the extravagant design of the place, the whole of my vision is clogged up with people. I can't look anywhere without seeing someone, and this puts me off a bit. I mean, sure. I have more potential people to steal from, but that is not really the point..

"Nervous, Kiara?" mom is suddenly beside me, nudging me. I laugh, shaking my head and crossing my arms. My act fools no one--mom knows. She hugs me, fixes a strand of my hair and smiles at me, before taking my hand to lead me inside. "It's alright. My first charity, I was nervous too. But don't worry, kitten. You'll do just fine. Once I introduce you to my friend, I am pretty sure you can take it from there on your own. After all, you're old enough by now to handle yourself."

"Haha. I'm sixteen, of course I'm old enough mom." I mutter, folding my arms and looking off to the side indignantly.

...When mom leads me over to meet her friend, I have the fortune to discover it is none other than Bruce Wayne himself. He is taller than mom, though looks lean and fit, as if he isn't the slothful rich man I assumed he'd be. It's strange. He is in the middle of saying something to my mom, when I begin to get a horrid headache. The room begins to spin, and colors are flashing all around my mind. My eyes dart around, a variant of questions and circus-themed music blaring in my ears. I can smell chemicals. Popcorn, I think I smell popcorn too. There are shadows, shapes. Things I cannot identify in my new hell, and things I recognize from my nightmares. For some reason, I feel myself beginning to change. Recoiling, twisting. It hurts. Then it begins. I can feel my face contorting, a look only one other person has ever had--that I have seen, anyway. Aside from his victims.

Up from my throat comes the most horrible sound. It's laughter, but not the nice kind. What is so funny, I don't know. All I know is that something is hilarious, and all I can do is laugh. I can barely breathe, but hey! Who needs air, when you can laugh all over yourself and make people stare? _Oh great._

I can hear my shrieking, cackling laughter, burning my throat. Next, I begin to speak in riddles. Questions so twisted, so tangled, even I haven't the slightest idea what I've just said. Mom is looking at me in horror, a terror in her eyes I have never seen before. The eyes of Bruce and his son what's-his-name are on me, watching my fit. I am just about to call for help, when I get a space of clarity in my mind, and enough air to do so, when the floor swallows me whole. I can feel myself falling..falling, down, down, down...

"..This is Kiara, Bruce." Mom is saying, nudging me to get me to function again. I am startled back, a bit of cold sweat trying to form at my forehead. It didn't happen...I wasn't swallowed by a hole in the floor, and I didn't end up making a fool of myself.

"Oh, um..hi," I attempt to smile, shaking his hand lightly. He has quite a grip. If only I had such a grip on my reality. _That_ , would be nice. Bruce's eyes hang on my necklace a moment or so, before he is looking to the boy beside him. "This, Selina..is Damian. Damian, this is Selina. The woman who is partly in charge of making this event a possibility. And this is her daughter...Kiara." All we get is a bit of a nod. A half smile, maybe. He doesn't seem all that friendly, from my observation.

"Hello." His voice is surprising to me. A bit more..refined than I would have thought from his apparent age. Although he is taller than I am, I wouldn't think him to be any more than sixteen like me, or maybe fifteen-and-a-half..? Only as a guess.

"Hiya," I wave a little, trying better to smile at him than I had his father. I wave a little as well. His dark eyes are trained on me, though they seem cold. I look away, blowing some of my bangs out of my face, wiping a bit of the sweat away. If I weren't scared by myself and my own mind (I am growing that way..I am afraid I am loosing my sanity..) and if I weren't trying my best to not french-kiss the floor because of my shoes, I think I might have maybe made a better impression. Well, maybe. This guy seems like he is a lot of...well, he doesn't seem fun.

_Lightbulb!!_   

He needs someone to teach him. I'm the feline for the job, I've decided it.

Clearing my throat, I look to my mom and Bruce. " 'Scuse me. Can I walk around with him for awhile? He looks to me like he needs to stretch his legs." I bat my long lashes and give an innocent look, hoping it gets me what I want. Bruce raises an eyebrow, though my mom shrugs. "If she wants to actually socialize for once, why not?" Mom looks to Bruce, and he smiles somewhat, looking to Damian. He nods, then motions for him to go. Feigning an 'excited, somewhat ditzy, flirty girl' type deal, I suddenly become hugely 'grateful.'

"Oh, thank you. I was sooo afraid I'd have to walk around a bunch of strangers by myself." I toss my arms around him, a look of surprise and shock crossing his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank youuu.."

Amidst trying not to barf on myself, I manage to get what I was after. His wallet. I am going to do something right tonight--even if I am afraid I might get sent into an episode. Either way, I've got my first prize, so yay me!

"C'mon, let's go!" I chirp cheerfully, adding to my appearance of a ditz. I remind myself so much of Harley Quinn that I think I really am going to blow chunks on myself. Grabbing Damian's hand before he can get too much of a protest in, I drag him off. He doesn't look happy.

Antagonizing--ah, my perfect work. _...And I missed fighting with the Bird Boy for this.._ The thought is vague, but crosses my mind just the same. I shake my head to toss it out, before looking around. "So, where would ya like to go first?" I ask, my arms wrapped around his limp left arm. I look up and grin dumbly. He scowls.

"Alright, alright. I'm not really a ditz, okay?" I finally pull away, getting my breath hard. "I just really..don't like people. I didn't even want to come tonight--not that you care--but that's why I dragged you off like that." I shrug, fully expecting him to be gone when I turn around. I look over my shoulder, and am surprised to see he hasn't gone anywhere. I raise an eyebrow in question, but am the next to have my hand grabbed and be dragged off to who-knows-where.

The only explanation I get is brief, and low.

"If you don't like people, then I would suggest you to go somewhere where they aren't all congregating. It seems like the smart thing to do, you know. If you are sure you aren't a ditz--I would have thought you would have thought of that." He flashes me a smirk, and I pout. I've been called stupid by someone I barely know. The _nerve_! ....I think I like him.

The rest of my night is spent making extremely small talk with Damian. It has been accomplished that neither of us seem to like people, so we spend the rest of the night in an elevator, randomly picking floors. I haven't learned a lot other than his antisocial nature, the fact that he really doesn't seem to have a lot of fun, and that he is used to having his way, when he wants it. This type of behavior puts me off, but I will say that his willingness to flash a knife at me when I annoy him is quite redeeming.

To put it shortly, I have no idea what the hell was even going on. I can't tell if I have just made a friend, or perhaps ticked off the son of Gotham's richest figure. I suppose only time will tell, seeing as I've snatched a few things off of him as well. Seeing as I am robbing my mom's friends, I'm sure she will probably make me give it back. Well...maybe. Oh well.

Either way, the night is really fun on my part. A lot more fun than I expected it would be.

That is, until the giant explosion comes. 


	5. "She tried to fight The Penguin..."

The explosion rattles the floor, causing me to wane off to the side, smacking into the elevator wall. The elevator has just reached the floor we should have been on all along, and the doors are opening to a sight most unwelcome. The place is wrecked. There are goons everywhere, I can hear screaming, gunshots, and all kinds of other things. I, however, am far too busy looking for my mom to care. What becomes of Damian after I dart out of the elevator, I don't know.

My eyes are frantically searching the place, looking for my mother. I am about to have a panic attack, when I finally see my mom. Pinned under some rubble, and apparently not moving. _"Mom!!"_ this time when I can hear an unearthly shriek coming from my throat, I know it's real. My mind is fogged with nothing but the thoughts of saving my mother. My mother is all I have in this world, aside from Wednesday and our other cats.

"Mom?" I slide to the floor beside her, shaking her shoulder. I can feel my throat closing up, a lump building. My eyes blurr. "Mom, wake up! Wake up right now..please?" I bite at my lip, before trying to lift the rubble off of her. "Dammit!" The shifting debris lands partly on my ankle, though my mom is free, and I can see her breathing.

Relief floods through me like a tsunami. I am down beside her, checking her for injuries, quicker than you can say "kitty-gon'-catch-the-b********- responsible-for-this."

I can feel myself shaking. Now is not the time to have an episode, but I can feel one coming. Especially when I see the person responsible for this.

The last thing I remember before things go entirely dark is anger. Anger, and a _lot_ of pain. Flashes of black, I think an umbrella, and a few other things are predominant memories as well, though not much else.

By the time I am awake again, I am somewhere I've never been before. My head hurts like nothing else, and I can't feel the rest of me. A shambled groan escapes me, before the thought hits me. "Mom!" I am immediately stopped from getting up, by the apparent fact my waist has been secured to the bed. Instead of getting anywhere, I hit my head, and end up whimpering.

My eyes close for a while longer after I take a look around the room, deciding I could just take a nap until someone came. If someone came.

Elsewhere, I can only assume my mom is busy talking to her friend, Mr. Wayne.

"Your daughter really is something else, Selina." Bruce rose his eyebrows, crossing his arms. Selina looked away, resting her chin on her knees. "I know she is. You don't know the half of it though, Bruce." Selina gave a faint smirk.

"I could take a well educated guess." Bruce walked over to the window, looking out it. "It's going to take her a long time to heal with those kinds of wounds, you know."

Selina frowned. "Well, obviously! Kiara tried to take on Oswald Cobblepot on her own. She attacked him, with mostly her shoes."

"A move I'm sure she learned from you, Selina." Bruce gave a slight smile, sitting beside Selina.

"Bruce, you don't understand. My daughter put herself in danger, just because she thought I was hurt. What's going to happen next time? I don't want something to happen to Kiara just because she thinks I'm hurt.." Selina's voice trailed off, and she put her head down again.

"Selina," Bruce looked to the side. "She was doing what any kid wants to do in a time like that. I lost my parents because of a criminal that I couldn't stop. I'm sure Kiara was only trying to make sure she wouldn't lose you. You're all she has, you know."

Selina fell quiet. She felt ill. "I _know_ ," her answer was bitter. She paused again, then added "I know I am all she has, Bruce. It isn't as if I have any family. Or anyone I am seeing. It's just me, Kiara, and our pets. It may be all she has, but it's all she knows--"

"That, I don't doubt." his gaze became more of a serious stare. "There are a lot of things you haven't told her, or me. She deserves to know, for the sake of her own safety. As for me, well, I would just hope that by now you would trust me enough to finally tell me what happened to you that night." His brows came together. "Though, since it would seem that is not the case, I would recommend you do at least get Kiara seen by a doctor. After all...I don't think it's considered normal for a sixteen year old to attack a well known, highly dangerous, criminal with a pair of high heels." He folded his arms then. "No matter how she was raised."

Selina's frown remained. She was silent for a very long time. Her eyes were closed so very tightly, it was almost like her thoughts were painful. She had thought many times about having Kiara at least checked up on once, just so she knew what all to expect from then on out. Her resolve, however, broke every time. Kiara could be the sweetest girl, gentle, caring, and helpful even.

Before, of course, she became a nightmare. She'd taken notice of Kiara's nightmares a long time ago. The nightmares, the horrible episodes of laughing fits, mumbling words that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Each episode took Selina back. Back to the night when Kiara became a possibility. She felt guilty for it, though it was true just the same. Often, Selina had wondered why she had even kept Kiara. Why she had allowed herself further suffering, knowingly. Selina wondered why she didn't just try to get rid of her. End the pain, the memories, rid herself of her biggest reminder.

Then she knew. Kiara was her daughter, crazy fits or not. She still loved her mother. She would still curl up with her on stormy nights, and ask to be read to...even now. Kiara was a pain to her, true. Though she was also her biggest joy. From the time kiara was little, she'd believed her mother invincible. She thought her mother the 'bestest burglar in all of Gotham history.' As a small child, Kiara would beg to hear stories of her mother's adventures and exploits, and then would even attempt to reenact them for her mother. Regardless of her means of creation, regardless of her instability--and the fact that, at times, Selina feared her own daughter..--regardless. Kiara was her daughter, and that was enough.

"Bruce...I really don't know how I am going to tell her about this. I mean, what would knowing do to her..?" Selina's voice broke. Concern rippled her features. "It isn't a good story. She is already becoming really unstable, Bruce. I doubt she will even remember attacking the Penguin."

Upstairs, naptime is slowly coming to an end. My eyes open again and I squint in the light. I am unsure what to make of the room, now that I allow myself a better look. I know for sure it is no room in my own home. So, I assume one of two things. Either I am having another cookoo time, or I'm really in some fancy-shmancy room. A hotel, maybe? Probably not. What hotel chains its guests to their beds?

"Hello..?" I ask, looking around the room. I cough then, though, and wince slightly. _Why do I hurt so much.._ Of course I get no answer. How nice.

The door comes open somewhat, and I am a little surprised at who I see coming in. Tall, dark, and...pissed off. His eyes are narrowed at me, and he has something in his hands. What it is, I can only guess to be the items I took off his father. Should his gaze have been any colder, I would have thought he was Mr. Freeze. It is all I can do, to give some kind of fake smile.

"It's not enough, you thought you could take on the Penguin. No, no. That couldn't possibly be enough. You just had to use your air-headed bimbo act to pickpocket my father. What, you thought that would go unnoticed?"

"..Penguin?" I take a moment to look at Damian like he's an idiot, before a little of my thought clears. "Oh. Well, you know what? He is the reason my mother almost became a pancake. If I did attack him, he deserved it." I don't know what he's talking about, much less remember it, but if he says I did, then I guess I did.

"As for the pickpocketing, I have no idea what you're talking about. I _found_ those things, thank you very mu- Ow.." Where is all this pain coming from? I wonder, rubbing my side. I mean, if I got in a fight with Penguin, I suppose it should make sense that I'm in a lot of pain. It doesn't mean I have to like it though.

"Sure you did." Damian narrows his eyes at me, before turning to look at the door. He appears to be contemplating something. From my observation, I am thinking he might be contemplating whether or not to alert his father about my theft. I watch him for a few minutes, before turning my attention to the strap around my waist that is holding me to my bed. I am not used to such restrictions to my freedom. While Damian is busy with his contemplation, I begin to work on trying to get myself free. Little do I know, now is not going to be the last time he and I butt heads over something.

Later, into what I can only assume is the night, I am seated at a long, heavy, old wooden table. Judging by the darkness and shape of it, I think it might be oak. Either oak, or some kind of old cherry wood.

My seat is at one long end of the table, far from the others. The expression on my face, I am sure, shows my feelings about the arrangement made in my absence. Apparently, mom and her friend Mr Wayne decided that it would be better for her and me to stay here until I heal up. I would rather have gone home. I want _Wednesday_ , not some place I am not familiar with.

I have resigned myself into silence, which only seems to please Jr. Wayne all too much. I am still brooding in my self designated silence, when Alfred comes over with food for me. Part of me doesn't want anything to do with it. The other part of me is curious; also drawn to the shine of the silver covering. I bite at my lip, my eyes flicking up to the other end of the table. There is seated mom, Bruce, and Damian. Their eyes are on me. I look back to Alfred, see the question on his features, and I only nod. Sitting still as my food is placed in front of me, a million thoughts are running through my mind.

My number one thought being this:

_As soon as I'm better enough to walk on my own, I'm leaving._

I can't stand people staring at me like I'm going to tear them to shreds. 


	6. Story Time

I am going to assume it has been at least three days, since I started staying in this hell. My time is spent mostly lying on 'my' bed, staring at the ceiling, and waiting to get better. Aside from mom, Alfred is the only other company I have. Damian is always either at school, or I assume up in his room, wherever that is; I'm sure by this point, Damian can't stand me. As for Bruce, who I guess is not as bad as I guessed him, always is off somewhere, doing something rather. Business for his company, or other rich-man stuff.

When he isn't doing that, he sits and talks to my mom. He's been helping her with her work, bringing her papers and such that she needs.

This manor is so boring to me, though. There are so many things all around me in 'my' room alone, that I could have easily made off with by now. Though I can't, due to the sake of concealing the fact mom and I are criminals. I can't get up on my own yet, so going to explore is out of the question. I would love it if I could have at least a book to read. Or.. _Wednesday_. It has been much too long since I've seen her, and it is beginning to wear on me. So much so, that I've began to skip meals. _How am I to eat, if my baby might have nearly starved by now?_

As I am wondering this, there is a set of footsteps coming ever closer towards the door. Closing my eyes, I begin to sort the details. By now, I know the sound of each and every person's footsteps in this place. After a couple of seconds, I am fairly certain it is Alfred. Though what he might want, I am not sure.

"Miss Kiara, would you mind if I come in?"

I pause, thinking it over. He seems to be the only decent person here right now, so I don't see a problem with it.

"Sure," I call back, my voice cracking slightly. I clear my throat, then push myself up a bit, propping my back against the pillow.

With him, Alfred has brought a big book. It looks old, but immediately catches my attention. It looks like the final book to a series I have been trying to finish for the last two years. My eyes widen and he catches it, a smile appearing on his face.

"I thought you might enjoy this book, Miss Kiara. You seemed the type of girl who would read it, and I remembered having a copy in the library, so I thought I'd go and retrieve it for you." Pulling a seat near the bed, he clears his throat. "By the excitement in your eyes, I would say I have guessed correctly, yes?"

Nodding several times, I can't help but smile. Though it faded slowly. "Yeah. But..Alfred, why are you being so nice to me?" I shift, frowning. "Everyone else here is avoiding me like the plague. That..and I get a huge sense of deja vu here..it makes no sense to me.."

Alfred pauses, listening to me as my words fade into a mumble.

"Well," he start, closing the book on his finger. "You do deserve to know the truth, though I am not certain I know all of it, nor have the authority to tell it to you; I will tell you this though, you have been here before. This is part of why I am being so kind, Miss Kiara. In the time you were here, I won't lie. I did grow quite fond of you."

This gives me a lot to think about. Memory of talking to my mother after memory starts to click into place, only interrupted by his question.

"Would you like for me to read to you, Miss Kiara?"

It is a wonderful story. Every bit as wonderful as I thought it would be. I almost fall asleep as I listen to Alfred read to me. It is a nice feeling--the nicest since I've been here. The questions still nag at me as I begin to drift off, into the most _**unwelcome**_ thing. Sleep.


	7. Nightmares (Damian's POV)

t's hard to sleep with all this noise. Bad enough that they even have to be here. I've got half a mind to go in there and tell her what for. If I thought it would do any good. That girl argues with almost everyone she comes in contact with. Still, it's not doing me any good to lay here and listen to it. What even has her so annoyingly loud, I have no idea. 

"Let's see if I can shut her up.." I catch myself muttering harshly under my breath, with a harder sigh, my fists clenched at my sides as my irritated , possibly red,  eyes stare out into the hall. Her room is not really all that far from mine. Which, I think, was done on purpose. 

The brass doorknob is freezing cold to the touch, as I turn it. I would have knocked on a normal occasion to avoid the inevitable lecture on "good manners" I'm guaranteed to get; this situation, I'll make that exception for. I'll take the lecture. 

"Kiara?" My voice comes at a growl, brows furrowed together in frustration at my lack of sleep. "Kiara, will you _shut up_ \--" I'm cut off by what I see when the door is all the way open. "...already..?"

She's not even awake, from what I can tell. Even though she looks like she should be with all the thrashing around and shrieking she's doing, the fact that she seems to be pleading for something or to someone every so often only proves she isn't. If she _were_ talking to me, she would be most likely looking at me for one, and for another, dishing out some bit of sass she deemed necessary. 

Her condition at first strikes me as it serving her right for the trouble she's caused me. It's horrible even for me, but she's gotten on my last nerve. And she's only been here for about three days. Making it a total of four, that I've known her. Kiara's set a record for quickest to annoy someone, I'm sure of that much.

As I debate mentally on what I want to do, my attention is swiftly caught by one thing I know I don't want to have on my plate. Even though I'm pretty sure I was told she wasn't supposed to be walking again yet on her own, Kiara has somehow made her way over to the window, and is now trying to jump out of it. The fact that she's not supposed to be out of bed, and the fact that a pretty bad storm has started outside, doesn't seem to be deterring her in any way. 

"Kiara." my voice comes before I can stop it or realize it. My grip on her arms as well. "Kiara, get out of the window. Now!" 

She screams. Struggling against me as if I'm trying to kill her. "Kiara! Kiara, stop. This is ridiculous!" Whatever she's dreaming about must be the worst thing imaginable. Getting her away from the window proves to be much more than difficult. When I finally accomplish it, I take her over to her bed and put her in, holding her until she stops thrashing around. By that time, she'd started to wake up. Or, at least her eyes were open. I don't know if she was awake for real, or not. Whatever she saw, by the look frozen on her face, wasn't me. It was something much, much worse. 

However long it took Kiara to finally calm down, she sat on her bed with her head on her knees even longer. Staring off  into space,  almost with her eyes glazed over. By the time she finally takes notice of me being there, she looks at me with something that seems like a mixture of confusion and contempt. 

"What are you doing here?" her brows furrow, and she rubs her head. Her voice has cracked from all the screaming she'd been doing. Her eyes are red, but not from her usual anger. Even Kiara's spiteful tone is off. I still can't help but to find it to be highly annoying though. After all, i did just save her sorry and ungrateful--not to mention unwelcome on my end--rear from flinging herself out a window. What that was even all about, I am still trying to figure it out. 

"Stopping you from trying to jump out a window." This stops her. Kiara's face relaxes, and she smacks her forehead. I am wondering if this is something that has happened before. If so, I almost pity her mother. Almost. Kiara is something else. Something I can't stand, yet something I can't help but try to understand. Or in the least, figure out what is wrong with her. The odd thing is, she reminds me of someone else I can't stand. 

"I was trying to jump out a window." Kiara repeated what I'd told her, in somewhat of a mumble to herself. Her brows were furrowed again. "That's not the only time that's happened." she sighed, still mumbling. Looking up at me, she rose an eyebrow. "I thought Alfred told me I wasn't supposed to be able to get out of bed on my own yet." 

This, I actually have an answer for. "Nightmares are powerful. I guess whatever you were dreaming about was enough to get you out of bed and over to the window despite your injuries. I guess I should just be glad that you didn't try to jump off of the roof." This is actually meant to be somewhat a joke--Kiara must have gotten it, because she laughed and shook her head. 

"I can't tell you how many odd things I've done over the years because of my nightmares. There was once, when my mom told me she'd found me hiding up on top of the fridge. I don't remember what I was dreaming about, or even how I got up there. The wasn't the worst thing I've done though. There was one time I remember," she stops, shaking her head. "Sorry. I don't know why I started rambling off like that. I know you don't care." The way she curled into herself after that, how every bit of light fell from her expression, it was almost sad. Things like this are why I hate listening to people, or being there long enough to catch all those little details. I guess I can blame my dad for that. Teaching me how to read people. 

"You don't have anyone else to talk to, do you?" Why I would care, or why I would even ask, is beyond me. All I can guess is that in my time of living here, or perhaps the time of her and her mother being here, has softened my natural urge to close off from people. Normally, I do not care. The fact that I would even ask something that would make it seem as if I did is highly irritating. With the knowledge that my question is irretractable, all I can do is wait for her answer. To tell Kiara 'never mind' would only make her hate me more, which would make things worse than they already are. I'm not sure I could handle that. Her attitude at times can make me question why I can't make the exception to eliminate someone instead of save them. In case of Kiara, put up with their existence. 

"Nope." Kiara looks up, shaking her head lightly. "The only ones I have to talk to are our cats. Mom isn't around a lot, so I mostly talk to Wednesday. I guess when we first met and I told you I didn't like people, I forgot to tell you that I only really talk to cats.." She sighs, curling into herself again. "I don't really know how to socialize well with humans." she stopped. "And now you must think I'm even more weird than you already do. " she sighed again. Her head down on her knees again, she is silent. 

I hate her right now. Mixing how I think, how I feel. This must be why I have been trying to avoid contact with females. They are one thing my father is right about. Girls are hard to understand; the moment anyone thinks they've figured them out, or began to, is when they find out they were very very wrong. I don't have anything else to say, so I sit there. Kiara doesn't seem to either, so after awhile, I rise as if to leave. 

Thunder cracks across the sky, lightning lighting up the room briefly. The doorknob barely turned, I can hear Kiara saying something. Soft, almost a whimper. 

"..Damien..." 

This is new. Actually calling me by my name. Kiara is calling me by my name. _What does she want?_

"Hm?" I turned to her. Wondering if she was just going to insult me in some way before I leave her room. Instead, I see her still curled into herself. Now, looking afraid. As if she'd calculated something, and come up with a bad result. 

Kiara swallows first. Swallowing her pride, maybe? Ironic, she's told me more than once by now that I was the one who needed to do that. "..Damien.." she pauses. "...Stay.. would you please..stay?" The word 'please' seems to catch in her throat as much as when she says my name. Her asking this of me catches me off guard more than anything else she has done since her arrival here. My immediate reaction inwardly is to be disgusted, to be further aggravated. It's late! I want to go back to bed, not babysit. The urge to leave, or to snap at her for asking something so stupid, is very strong. 

The lightning flashes again, lighting up the room, and her expression. Very quietly, I could hear her whisper 'stay with me..' Which must be doing ravages on her pride. Her need to prove to me whatever she's been trying to prove. 

In the end, I suppose my decision here, no matter how it affects her, is clear. 


	8. Playing 'Nice'

The look on Damien's face says he wants no part of what I've asked for. I can't say that I blame him, I'm not exactly happy with myself for having to ask, either. It makes me feel weak. Sick to my stomach in a way.

With the storm going outside though, I know I won't be getting any better sleep than I was before Damien came in here. If anything, since I've gotten so tired, I will be sleeping much worse. I'm pretty sure I won't be asking him again, so maybe this would be the only time I'd have to ask. Hopefully.

To my surprise, he slowly made his way over to the side of the bed, and looked down at me. Damien just stared at me, and rose an eyebrow. A silent question, asking me first. This, I can kind of feel a bit of respect for. Not everyone would do that.

I nodded to him, scooting over a bit. I can still feel pain shooting through me when I move, now that I am aware of my movements, fortunately it has gotten a lot better. Being there are many more blankets on this bed than what I need to keep myself warm, I do not have to worry about sharing the one I've latched onto. It's purple, and exceedingly soft, with a really pretty pattern on it. There are no girls here, so I wonder what such a feminine type of thing is doing here. I've resolved to ask about it when I get the chance to.

With my consent given, he still hesitates. Eventually, I have company. He still seems distant, though I will admit having someone else here does make the storm not so bad. At first I try to put a space between us, so as not to make things too awkward. The bed is more than big enough for it, anyway. I am uncertain if to lay on my side, or to lay on my back. I don't want to feel ungrateful--even though I'm not sure why I care so much. Feeling a pang of pain shoot through my back, I wince. Which is noticed right away. The whimper I made most likely didn't help any. _Note to self: next time you fight the Penguin, have your gear._

"What's wrong, Kiara?" He still doesn't seem happy to be sharing a sleeping spot with me. The tone he uses is one that suggests he is quite irritated with me already, so I should cut to the chase and tell him.

A sigh escapes me, before I answer.  "My back hurts. But it's fine, I can deal--" I am cut off before I can even finish my sentence.

"Turn over."

"What? Why?"

"Will you just shut it and turn over?"

Begrudgingly, I turn on my side. I find it extremely rude of him to be so demanding with me, and begin to rethink my request of asking Damien to stay with me. As I'm debating on if I should give him a piece of my mind, I can feel sudden warmth and pressure to my back. Against all odds, I'm getting kindness shown to me _voluntarily_. By Damien. Or, am I? This is probably just to get me to be quiet, so he can sleep. With this in mind, I frown in silence. It would be just like him anyway. Shut me up so you can sleep. Only help me to help yourself. I can't decide if this infuriates me about him, or makes me like him. He'd probably make a good criminal acting like that. Maybe I'll bring it up to him someday. Well--probably not. Due to the whole "don't tell anyone about your other identity if you don't want caught" thing. It would be my luck Damien would try to pull some kind of weird citizens' arrest thing on me. _Is that even legal?_

It doesn't take long. I can feel the pain slowly draining away, carrying my ability to stay awake with it. Who knew a back rub could do so much for someone? I didn't. When I turned over to try to at least give Damien some sort of thank you, I could barely keep my eyes open. The unexpected warmth I feel, followed by how unimaginably nice he smells--odd to me to have such a thought, considering our current enmity to one another--quickly put me out. All I think I can get out is a bit of a mutter mixed with a purr, before I fall from consciousness. 

**Damien's POV:**  

Through the night, Kiara seems to sleep fairly well. Before she fell asleep, I think she was going to try to say something to me, though all she got  out was some kind of soft purr, and what I think was a smile. How this makes me feel, I don't know. Through the rest of the night, I don't hear much from her. That is, until she started into some kind of nightmarish fit again. This one, however, I cut off before it got too bad. I want more sleep before tomorrow, and I'm going to get it. 

Having woke me up the moment she started to go off again, I did the first thing I could think of to keep her from trying to jump out a window. (Aside from trying to smother her with a pillow for waking me up again.) Pulling her close, I hold her there until she finally calms down. I'm covered in Kiara's tears, which is another agitation to me, but I eventually get to go back to sleep. When Kiara is not thrashing around like some kind of mad woman, she is actually not that bad. After awhile, I almost can forget she is even there. 

By morning, what I see when I look down is highly unexpected. How we got this way, I don't know. Kiara is curled up beside me, I guess I never let go of her after trying to get her to calm down again. Briefly, I begin to wonder if this is what it feels like to date a girl. Not that I would consider her, or think she'd consider me either. Looking out the window, it doesn't seem to be very late in the morning yet. Despite this, Kiara doesn't show any signs of waking up. The look of contentment she has is very off-putting. I am far more used to scowling and smart remarks. The temptation I have right now to take a picture of her for proof and possible tormenting later on, is very high. 

However, I think I have a better idea. 

It will be a lot easier for me to leave here than it will be for Kiara. With that in mind, I think I have an idea to help keep her calm enough from here on out. Finding out where she lives was the easy part. All I had to do was use my father's computer for that. The hard part, will be figuring out which cat is hers. With so many running around, I find it difficult to believe they'd have enough time to feed, water, and take all of them to the vet. Either way, it's their life.  

_____

 The easiest thing to do may have been for me to try calling for the cat by name. Most of the cats in the place seemed to be pretty docile. Save for the few cats who decided to hiss at me. Although I spent almost half an hour there at their apartment, in the end, I did end up finding Wednesday. 

Getting the kitten back into the mansion wasn't as hard as would be expected. Nor was getting Wednesday into Kiara's room without being noticed. Upon stepping in the room, I admit what I saw drew a smirk to my face. While I was gone, it seems like Kiara latched onto the pillow I was laying on and decided to cuddle it. This, I _will_ get a picture of.  

After I let her have her cat back.  I am hoping this will make things a bit more tolerable around here,  at least while our 'guests' are here. 

______

Picture taken (just because I feel the need to balance out the 'niceness') and cat placed, I get the door shut just in time for when Kiara woke up. 

By the sound of scratchy laughter and purring coming from the room, I'd say there will be peace around the mansion again, at least for today. 


	9. Table for Clowns, please. (Damian's POV)

Since Kiara and her mother have been healing up pretty good, I am guessing it won't be too long before they finally leave. Even though that may sound rude, it is extremely hard to sneak off to the Batcave without having to worry about being seen by one of them. In hindsight, letting them stay at all was probably a really bad idea. If it'd been up to me, I wouldn't have let them come here. 

Despite my heavy dislike of new people anyway, I will say I do dislike Kiara's mother, Selina, a lot less than Kiara. Even though lately, she's done nothing but try to be friendly to me. It's weird. I almost think I liked being snapped at much better. She is awkward though, so I suppose that isn't so bad. Aside from insisting I pet Wednesday every so often, Kiara has been spending her 'out' time out on the balcony. I've seen her up on the railing several times now, seeming to be trying to push herself. I still have seen a bit of a wobble in her step, so I know she hasn't healed all the way and has been ignoring that. 

As to tonight in particular, it has been up to my father, to decide we should all go out for dinner. This will be Kiara's first time leaving the mansion since she got here, and I can't shake the feeling I have that she'll do something that might embarrass us all. I most likely shouldn't feel like that, though after her reaction to the whole 'she can't bring Wednesday' thing, I don't know. 

Since we are going to one of the fanciest places possible, I am again having to wear a tie. And a suit. My enthusiasm for this night has hit an all-time low. I would much rather be out fighting crime, than dining in a fancy restaurant. 

"Master Damien, your father has asked me to alert you that you shall be leaving shortly, and he would like for you to be in the dining room in about fifteen minutes." a knock came to my door, followed by a message from Alfred. Just as I've finally gotten my tie fixed. _I would love to strangle whoever invented these things._

"Alright, Alfred."A sigh escapes me as I take my last look in the mirror, making sure everything is right, lest I be subject to a five minute session of having it 'fixed' for me. 

Shiny shoe after shiny shoe, I am met with the sight of my father standing beside Selina, waiting for me, and, presumably Kiara. Who is nowhere in sight. _Most likely going to make us late. It begins already--and we haven't even left yet._

Amid my irritated thoughts,my attention is barely brought up to the sound of footsteps coming towards where we're standing. When my gaze is brought up, I can't help but to do a double-take. Surely, this isn't the same girl who'd been trying to fling herself out a window. She's dressed up even more than the night I first met her, which was a lot. 

It's a long dress, which fits like a glove, from what I can see. I am guessing it was bought for her, as was Selina's.  However, mother and daughter look completely different tonight. Kiara's dress is a long dark blue, almost black, dress; the dress is covered in some kind of sparkles, is a strapless sweetheart cut, and has a rather high split up the left side.  

"Hey, Monkey Suit," Kiara taps my leg with her shoe. "Eyes up here. No matter how hard that may be." she laughed afterwards, suggesting she was joking. 

"Mhm. As if there's anything worth staring at anyway," I respond to her jest with a smirk, drawing a mocking face from her. "And at least _I'm_ wearing something I can breathe in."

"Oh shut up. It's not funny," Kiara frowned, rubbing her stomach. "I really can't." She frowned, then adding under her breath "...how am I supposed to eat in this?!"  

"I wish you would both stop complaining. I think you look wonderful," Selina comes over, smiling at both me and Kiara. "Especially you, young man." she takes ahold of my shoulders, looking me over. Loosening up my tie and putting a light kiss on my cheek, she smiles at me. "The only thing you need to do is lighten up a bit. Tonight is supposed to be a nice evening, okay? Have fun with it." 

I am far from used to things like this. With my own mother far out of the picture, and dead for all I know, I wonder momentarily if this would be what it would be like to have a mother. Being fussed over is highly annoying to me. As is being touched. However, in a way, the concern isn't so bad. My gaze turning to where Selina is now fussing over Kiara's dress, Kiara seems to be used to it. Despite being upset to having her hair messed in, she stands still enough for Selina to finish her work. 

"Really is like a mother bird, isn't she?" my question gets a smirk and a laugh from Kiara. 

"No.. not really like a mother bird. More like an over-protective mother cat," she steps away, heading to where the adults are now walking out. Turning to look at me over her shoulder, she added "Besides, we cats eat birds." I know it was meant to be a joke, as there was no possible way that she could know about Robin. In that one moment though, she really reminds me of someone else. 

_______

The ride to the restaurant isn't that long, though with having to sit by Kiara, it makes it seem like forever. In more than one way. I am tempted to show her how she was cuddling up to that pillow, or remind her that she'd been the one to ask me to stay with her so she wouldn't be afraid of the storm; if only just so I could stop her incessant teasing. 

With her annoyingness blocked out,  I find her distracting me in another way. Which is a further irritant to me. Like the night at the charity ball where we met, she looks stunning. There's no other word for it. Besides perfect, maybe. 

"Why are you scowling..?" her question breaks me from my conflicting, aggravating thoughts. 

"What?"  I snap at her so sharply and so suddenly, the rest of the conversation in the vehicle comes to a complete halt. Kiara recoils, frowning. Sighing heavily, I shut my eyes only a moment. "What did you say?" I repeat, this time in a way that draws attention away from me again. 

"...I asked you why you were scowling.." Kiara answered, frowning still. All light of play has left her eyes, and she is just staring at me now. 

I have no real answer to give Kiara. Save for the one that comes without any thought whatsoever beforehand. "I don't know, why are you such an _annoying **bitch**_?" It comes with such a bite, even I am silenced. The look she gives me now is very clear--pain. Probably as much as the smack across the face she delivers in answer, before turning towards her window. 

The look I see my father giving me out of the side of my eye says that I'm going to be in a lot of trouble when I get home. So much for a fun night out. 

_______

The rest of the way there, I am not surprised that Kiara has finally shut up. She is as silent as I wanted, though for some reason, I can't help the feeling I have growing of regretting my remark, deep in the pit of my stomach.  

It doesn't take too much longer before we arrive there. I am also further un-surprised due to the fact that Kiara gets out before anyone else, and makes her way towards the doors. Her pushed walking pace is not something she should be doing quite yet, according to what I've heard Alfred say; Kiara clearly doesn't care, and though this is actually my fault this time, I don't see why I should either. 

"Kiara, could you wait a minute?" Selina is out next after my father, a bit of worry on her face in regards to what her daughter was doing. 

Selina is walked to the door by my father, leaving me as the last one to get out. 

A deep breath escapes me before I do so, taking up the rear of our group. Once inside, Kiara stands as far from me as she can, while we're waiting to be seated. At the table, things are no different. Her seat is isolated, her expression hollow. A few times, her gaze seems to avert to her surroundings. 

I myself have never been here before either, so I will say I could understand why she would want to check the place out. It has a high ceiling, covered in golden designs, and a few chandeliers. The table cloths seem to be made of some kind of silk, the dishes look like china. Even the silverware shines without a flaw. The night continues on fairly smoothly. 

The waiter comes, delivering us our menus. Although I am not sure what I want, it seems I am the last one left to choose what it is I want to start with. It is a bit hard for me to do, seeing as I can hear something that is distracting me. Looking up over my menu, I can see Kiara giggling. What's funny, I don't know. For some reason, Selina looks to be worried by Kiara's sudden laughs. 

With my food picked finally, our menus are taken away by the waiter. 

Our waiting time is not long, though the amount of Kiara's unexplained giggling seems to be growing. Even the waitress who bring us our first food seems to notice it. She gives Kiara a look of confusion and concern almost, before walking off to take the orders of other tables. The whole meal is like this. Food comes, Kiara is still laughing. The waiter or waitress looks at her oddly, then leaves. 

Amidst this semi-frustrating cycle, my father looks down at what appears to be his cell phone. Of course I know otherwise. Looking in his direction, I am about to ask him something. In hopes of leaving Selina and Miss Giggles for awhile. His expression directed to me reads a no. I sulk.

"Bruce, where are you going? You haven't finished your dinner.." Selina started, raising an eyebrow at my dad. 

"I got a call about something at work, it shouldn't be too long." he shakes his head, waving it off. With that, he turns and makes his way out of the restaurant.  

I can tell Selina was going to try to say something else to my father before he left, but her attention, and mine, is drawn to Kiara. Again. 

She seems to be seeing something that isn't there, or rather; Kiara is looking at things only she can see. Whatever it is, I can't tell if it is hilarious or terrifying. She's gone from a small giggle, to a full on, shrieking laughter. One I have only heard from one person before. Or, from his victims. 

Though people have began to stare, Kiara doesn't seem to notice. She's laughing so hard it looks like she can't breathe. Which, in that dress, I doubt she can. Shrieking laughter turns to her falling out of her chair, her fit continuing on the floor. Only now, it looks more like some kind of asthmatic, or spasmic attack than anything else. 

"Kiara! Kiara, honey, calm down.." Selina is in the floor now, trying to calm her down. "Kiara, please. Not here, please, not here.." she mutters, trying to get Kiara to sit up. Her only answers come in riddles. Or questions. Ones that make no sense, even to me. Shoving her mother away, Kiara begins to roll around in a ball, still laughing her head off at whatever it was that set her off. _I knew she was going to embarrass us.._

"Kiara, please!" Selina is frantic by now, even trying to smack her out of it. Finally, she looks up at me. "Damien, stay with her.. I'm going to go find help..or call an ambulance.." All I can do, is nod to Selina. 

After watching her rush off, I do all I can think of at the moment. Call it 'cognitive calibration' if you like. --I hit her really hard on the head. This was probably ill-advised given her current state, but it was all I could really think of at the moment.

With her finally out of her fit, Kiara went limp. Which, I should have probably foreseen as a possibility. With no one else around yet to do it, I'd have to do it on my own. As much as I'd hate to. 'It' being to get her breathing going again. Apparently,  hitting her on the head to get her out of her fit, also made her stop breathing. _What a great way to end a far-from-perfect night..Having to give Kiara CPR.._

With no one else trying to help, I guess it is good I did learn CPR. With her dress so tight, I'm not sure how much good it will do, but I can try. 

Picking her up and getting her on a table, the first thing I do Is have to cut open the top of her dress and hope she doesn't kill me for it later. Then next thing I have to do, (aside from wondering what the heck is taking Selina so long to get an ambulance or something) is start the chest compressions. When that doesn't seem to be enough, I start the other part of it. I was hoping I wouldn't have to, but unless I'd rather have a death on my hands or a lecture times three on my plate,  I have to. 

About the fourth or fifth time I go through it, Kiara coughs and shifts a bit. By the look on her face, aside from just coming to, is mostly of pain. And confusion. 

Before I can tell her anything,  I finally hear the ambulance sirens. Something is off though, because with it comes laughing. And gunshots. Right after I've just gotten her awake, I'm having to get her out of the way of the window. 

The window, which is being crashed in by the ambulance that I'd heard coming. In it, not the paramedics that may still be needed, but a bunch of big, very unfriendly, looking men wearing clown masks. To top it all off, the biggest clown, one of Gotham's worst villains, completes the set. 

_Great. No way to change, having to protect a barely coherent girl who might try to kill me when she comes fully to, what more can go wrong here?_

Following the crashing in of the window, the Joker himself steps out of the ambulance. 

"Good evening, ladies and jerks!" he calls out, his signature haunting laugh and insane grin following. "This is going to work simple for you all." The Joker adds, tossing up and down a grenade in his hand. "You give all of your pretty little valuables to my men here, and I don't blow you all sky high!" 

With so many rich people here, it should take them awhile to get to where I'm hiding Kiara. For now, all I can do is wonder where the _**help**_ is.    

"What an idiot.." Kiara groans this, sitting up a bit. Giving me a death glare, she scoots away from me. To me, she still has nothing to say. Sitting her chin on her knees, she looked off to the side. What she is thinking, I don't know.

 I possibly will be getting an earful of it later on, or more of the silent treatment, for what follows. 

Halfway into their robbery of the rich and wealthy patrons in the restaurant, a streak of black came on the scene. Turning out to be Catwoman, I had to wonder what she was doing here, or where she came from.  Followed by Batman, the fight to follow their arrival showing why she had come. Catwoman serving as a distraction, Batman coming in afterwards to help clean up the rest of the goons. That was, until something Kiara will probably never forgive me for--again. 

The shimmer of her necklace brought the Joker's attention in our direction. Knocking the table I'd had her hidden behind out of his way, he picked her up by her throat, running a blade along the chain of her necklace. Despite her hate for me, she did try to get me to help her. Which, for the sake of dual identity protection, I had to instead pretend to be scared and run. This was giving me a chance to go try to get to my spare costume hidden in the limo we'd taken there. Not that she'd know that. 

_**"Coward!"**_ her shriek followed me, showing just how angry she was. 

From what I saw when I came back, (and was later informed of as well) The Joker had taken Kiara over to where Batman and Catwoman were, and decided to try and use her as a way to get them to let him and his men leave with their loot. 

"How's about it, Batsy-Boy?" Joker crowed, grinning all over himself. "You let me and my boys leave with the dough, and I won't turn her pretty little face into a mess. You know, kind of like mine!" he cackled, running his blade around her lip. "...I think..starting _here_.."  With thought, he shook his head. "No, wait. Wait, wait. I've got it. Such a pretty set of lips shouldn't be cut up," he shook his head again. Turning Kiara around, a contorted, blood red painted mouth was what met her set of light pink lips. (The horror of that is why I won't be tormenting her for awhile..that's enough to send _her_ to Arkham.)

Lasting who knows how long, what came to follow was his comment on how soft her lips had been, and how they tasted like strawberries. That, and what must have been a very painful hug to the floor. Joker's shoe pinning her back down, he finished his previous thought. "To save her pretty little face," Joker mocked at this "I think I'll blow  her brains instead!" 

Guessing this all happened in a relatively short time, and this was why neither Batman nor Catwoman had done anything yet, the gun pulled out by the Joker was stopped by not them, but me. Well, by Robin. Same thing. 

The rest of the night goes down like history. 

I got the beat the hell out of Joker, fight alongside my father, and curiously..Catwoman. As well as getting to watch the rest of Joker's crew being shipped off to the police station, or to Arkham where they all belong. I'd say it was a pretty decent night to work. 

To live out as myself though, I'd have to say otherwise. It still bothers me how Kiara freaked out. The laugh, the faces she made, the mambo-jumbo she was responding with.. I will have to figure this out. Because I know it is far from something normal. Whether I'll get a straight answer from her mother or not, it's worth a try. Aside from that, I'm pretty sure I'll have to worry about being smothered in my sleep by Kiara now.   _Which I probably do deserve.._

_________

The whole way home, Kiara refuses to talk to me, to her mother, or to anyone else. She spends the ride home curled up by her window, staring out at the stars. 

Since Alfred had to bring another car for us, this one has more room. Fortunately, I can sit out of slapping reach now. 

When the car arrives at the mansion, Kiara is the last one out. Keeping to herself--hugging her arms and giving us all, especially me, the cold shoulder as she goes by. The resounding sound of her slammed door echoes through the mansion to where we are, earning a sigh from Selina. 

This is when my father finally speaks up. 

"Selina, Damian.. come with me. We need to talk." 

He paused, then added

"But, uh, Damian? After I talk with you, go on up to your room. I don't think having you check up on her would be a good idea."  

I nod. 

_Finally..something I can agree to.._


	10. Runaways don't Lie, pt. 1 (Multi. POV)

**(Selina's POV)**

I sat in a chair, –which judging by the fabric, it was probably Cashmere or something– chewing on my nails. Tonight hadn't gone nearly as good as I had hoped it would go. Who knew, the one night that Kiara and I finally went out again, that not only would I guess the _menu_ _options_ trigger one of her episodes, but that she'd end up passing out as well; that the help I tried to go get for her would be hijacked by the Joker. Who knew, that the one night that my daughter and I finally went out again, would be full of such chaos. I most certainly did not know it would go so bad.

Had I known it would go so bad, I would have suggested that maybe we stay here and have Alfred cook for us instead. I know it's what we've done almost every night since  Kiara and I got here, but it seems like that would have at least been somewhat safer– or in the least, less annoying in my case. Not being able to have a simple dinner with a friend, his son, and my daughter, without  some psychopathic, clown-obsessed, green-haired maniac showing up with his band of idiots and ruining it, is only part of what takes me off about it. The other part is, the fact that my daughter probably hates me now as much as she does Damien – because while she was being assaulted by a freak, and almost had her brains blown out, her mother wasn't able to do anything about it. And I should've been. But I couldn't, because at the time I couldn't think very clearly. There was chaos everywhere, and I was caught completely off-guard by it.

With that being said, it also happened in only a few seconds' time.  There was not much I could do. Not that it will matter to her, I'm her mother and I should have been able to do something. Instead, the one who stopped Kiara, my most prized possession, the thing I love most – aside from jewels or even cats– the one I would give my life for. Was stopped from becoming a stain on the floor by not me, but the one she so often has referred to as "Bird Boy." Which, I am not sure if I am happy at this for still having my daughter, or annoyed at the irony. Kiara's life was preserved by someone she hates, _and_ by someone she adores. Rather, adores fighting. 

Which, speaking of the Devi– I mean, Damien; Bruce seems to be almost done talking to him. Undoubtedly meaning it will be my turn next.  

_￼He's going to want to ask me about Kiara. I'm sure of it. The only question is, what am I going to tell him, when I know I can't tell him anything completely true..?_

**(Bruce's POV)**

"Selina," 

Though my voice is surly not loud enough to have scared anyone, she starts. I can only imagine what she will tell me to try to explain the strange behavior of her daughter. It is more than only the behavior described to by Damien, I have taken note of a few things on my own, as has Alfred. All I know, is that if it were my child, I would be highly concerned. 

"Yeah?" Selina sits up, having had her legs tossed up over the opposite arm of the chair. When I came in, she'd been rather thoughtfully staring off, and chewing her nails. Clearly, whatever she is going to try to feed me is something she's taken a lot of time to cook up. Not that I didn't give her enough time to have it in the oven. 

"I need to talk to you about Kiara. Damian told me about what happened after I left. Would you care to offer me your own explanation?" I pause, brows furrowed. "And I don't want to be told anything about allergies. I know of almost every common and uncommon allergy there is. None of which, however, causes behavior that." 

Selina is silent, licking her lips. Her fingers are noticeably clenched together pretty tightly. _Here we go, most likely the biggest load of bullcrap I'll hear this week._

"Kiara.." Selina swallows, avoiding eye contact with me. "Well, when Kiara was little, she had a run-in with some of Joker's chemicals." Biting at her lower lip, she looks up at me halfway now. "I got her away from it as soon as I could, though she's had problems ever since. I've dealt with it in every way I've been able to." 

_There are so many holes in her story._  "And none of these ways involved taking her to the hospital?" my first question is asked softly, in a relaxed way. I won't turn this into some kind of interrogation unless I have to. 

"Of course not!" Selina seems to catch herself here. "I mean, Bruce. You know I couldn't do that. They'd try to send her to somewhere like Arkham, and I couldn't handle that. It wouldn't have done her any good, anyway. Arkham would destroy her. You know how they treat the inmates..or 'patients' there." 

This is a bit more sensical, in a way. At least now I've gotten more out of her. 

"You could have taken her there right after the incident, you know." This seems to fluster Selina. Flustered isn't really what I am going for, per se, but I suppose it will do. 

"Oh, yes. _Why not_ have **Catwoman** take her child to the hospital for treatment after being exposed to Joker Gas?" She seems more irritated by this, but remains resolute. "What was I supposed to tell them? "Uh, yes, I need help please. You see, my kid followed me out on one of my night raids. But unfortunately, she came in contact with something that might be deadly to her." Really, Bruce? I couldn't have taken her then, and I couldn't have taken her now!" 

I pause. There are more holes in what she is saying. Starting with the fact that Damien told me her original idea was, he thought, to go and get an ambulance or medical help for Kiara. 

"Selina," I wait until she has calmed down enough, then I point out the obvious to her. "You went for an ambulance to help her. In fact, that was the ambulance Joker hijacked. It was a vehicle of opportunity for them, but I know because you have scratches and scrapes which tell me you were tossed out when they took it." 

Her face pales. She isn't saying anything, but I can see her tension growing. 

Despite that, if my theories are to be confirmed, I have to get the truth out of her. 

"Selina, I have to ask you this. It's important you tell me the truth." My tone with her now gains her attention fully– I have never seen her so nervous before. It is almost as if a timid little doe has replaced the ferocious feline I am used to. 

"Who is Kiara's father?"

**(Damian's POV)**  

Calling Kiara an annoying bitch may not have been the smartest thing I've ever done. I've done a lot of stupid things regarding her, but that might have been the icing on the cake when it comes to dumb things I've done around her. 

For some reason, I still don't know why I care so much about how I affect her, or how she feels. Maybe it's because that's the first time I've said something like that to someone's face. I swear I could feel the pain she felt in the slap she gave me; the slap being painful enough to me already without hers added in. 

Closing my eyes, all I can do is let an elongated, exasperated, sigh.   _I don't want to, and I know she won't accept it anyway._

Yet, I feel some weird obligation to go and see if she'll accept some kind of apology from me or not. I guess it's because I want to at least be able to say I tried. So if it goes bad, it can be on Kiara. Twisted morals, don't you love them?

Clutching the red ball I've been aimlessly tossing up and down for the last however long, my socked feet take me off of my bed, out of the safety of my room, and towards the danger zone. Even the hallway, dark as it is right now, seems to be full of foreboding shadows. All telling me to turn around and go back to my room. To leave it alone. That it's no good anyway. 

_Too late now.._

Such famous last thoughts fill my mind as I turn the knob to her door, and look in. She's not anywhere in sight, so maybe I shouldn't be here. Ignoring that, I shut the door behind me, swallowing harshly. It feels like swallowing rocks. 

"Kiara?"

A sudden flash of eyes turns out of a dark corner of the room by the window, full of anger. No doubt here on who it is. 

"What!" Her voice is so full of acidic venom, I can almost feel it searing through my veins. "What do you want, Damian? Are you here to tell me more about how I annoy you? Are you here to make fun of me for the episode I had at the restaurant, or to rag on me about it? I know I _embarrassed_ you, so why don't you leave me alone?" 

￼Kiara comes closer, only so that I can see parts of her angry expression in the moonlight from the window. As well as what look like bite marks. _Human bite marks..?_

The impact of her words stuns me into silence long enough for her to growl at me from impatience. Finally, my instincts to defend myself kick in. 

" _ **No**_ ," I snap at her, now towering over her with a look of equal hate. "I came here to _apologize_ to you, stupid." 

Her expression turns snide. "Oh, _wow,_ really? To a little peasant like me?" She laughed. "You're doing one _hell of a job_ of that, Richie Rich." Her responses to me remind me of why I didn't even want to come apologize to her. I don't have a lot of experience apologizing to people anyway. 

"Well I wouldn't have anything to apologize to you for, if you hadn't been confusing me!" I snap at her, only then realizing what I'd said. _Shit.._

"What?" now Kiara looks confused, her tone momentarily gone. "How was **_I_** confusing _**you**_..? If anyone was confusing to anyone, **you** were confusing to **me**." 

Taking note she'd not understood what I'd said, as usual, all I can wonder is what she's talking about this time around. "Oh really, how so?"

"You ran off, leaving me held up by the throat!" Kiara growled angrily. "Instead of trying to help me, I ended up getting my first kiss stolen! And then he almost shot me!" her tone wavers here, a mix of what might be embarrassment and frustration. 

To mask my question of that was possibly her first kiss when I was sure she should've had at least one by now–a question I again, do not know why I have– I snap back with whatever comes first to mind as a potential comeback. 

"Yeah, well. You wouldn't have had to of worried about either of those things if I hadn't given you CPR after your lunatic episode." 

Kiara makes a sound I can only describe as very exasperated disbelief. Followed by a laugh. 

"Wow..you really are a dumb little rich boy." she muttered to herself, shaking her head. Afterward, she grabbed my collar and added, very loudly I will say: 

"I lost my first kiss. I almost died. You say I wouldn't have been able to if you hadn't been there, as if these things were good. " her tone gradually turns to a harsh whisper. "Next time your first kiss is taken by a weirdo who sticks their tongue in your mouth, then says you taste like strawberries, THEN you can say something like that. Until then, go to hell." 

Releasing my collar, she turns, as if to say shes's done. I, however, am not. 

I've never been as angry as I am right now. Were it not so dark in here, I would even venture to say I am seeing red. 

Taking a tight grip on her wrist, I stop her from leaving, bringing her close enough so she will have to face me, with nowhere else to go. 

"Listen, you little two-bit pocket picker, you're in my home. You and your mother have both been staying here for free. Instead of being grateful for having a place to recuperate after your dumb-ass decision to attack the Penguin on your own, for the fact that I didn't have to go get your cat for you after staying with you just because you were scared of a little dark and lightning – Which, by the way, you would have died in because you were trying to jump out the window during a record storm. So that's time one, I saved your life. Oh, and what else did I not get a 'thank you' for? Oh, that's right. The fact that I am the only reason you're not in a coma or dead right now. CPR isn't easy when the person you're working on is still twitching after having some kind of weird spasm, you know that?" My grip on her wrist tightens, and I can feel she's stopped trying to get away. "It looks a lot to me, like you're the one who can go to hell." 

In my current state of anger, the little signs I should have noticed are going out of notice. She's started crying. She barely cries, from what I've seen. Instead of stopping, it only seems to spur my tirade.  

"..Wh-why didn't you just let me die, then?" Kiara's voice is strangled, her expression darkening again. 

"Maybe I should have." my answer seems to come from another person, one who's anger is in complete control. Normally, I feel nothing, but this new wave of emotion is..astounding. 

"Maybe I should have. You know, the only one who actually likes you is your cat, anyway. Your mother? She'd be better off without you and you know it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed us all? How she could live with that every day, I have no idea. " Laughter swells in my throat. As if for some reason, this is all funny to me. Unfortunately, whether this was some form of a nightmare or some kind of break in my self-control, I won''t know. The next thing I remember is being kneed in the stomach, then hit on the head really hard, and darkness. – I think Kiara head-butted me. 

_______

The morning comes with a horrible headache. And..something fuzzy. And tiny.  Which seems to be curled up on my chest. It takes me time to realize that it's Kiara's cat, Wednesday, who must have decided that I'd make a good place to lay for the night. Since all I can see is a shift or two and all I can hear is purring, I think she is still asleep. 

My first thought is to tell Kiara to get her pet, though with the feeling of emptiness in the room, I know it's just me and the cat. Sitting up slowly, so as not to hurt the kitten –such care I should have probably also taken with her owner – I set the sleeping ball of fluff on the empty pillow, which should have had a Kiara laying on it. 

Running a hand through my hair, I have to take a moment to recall the previous night. What my mind brings forth isn't pretty, and leaves a wrenching feeling in the pit of my stomach. The added image of the open window, and missing set of shoes, doesn't help me any. 

Just as I am thinking to leave the room, I notice a piece of paper. All it has on it is how, what, and when, to feed and care for Wednesday. Aside from that, it says nothing as to where she went. Which, in this city could be anywhere, even the bottom of the river or in a dumpster, by now. 

Gotham can be cold and unforgiving. Full of many diverse dangers to someone in the state I put her in last night. 

The thought of whether to look for her or to go just play a game runs through my mind. Knowing she won't want to see me, and knowing I'd rather delay telling the adults as long as I can before telling them, I opt for the game. Shutting the window, I carry the kitten back to my room on the pillow and set up a game to play. If she wants to leave, I might as well make sure Wednesday doesn't jump out the window too. 

_After all.._ I think, as my game loads up. _Why should I care? She hates me, I hate her. A girl like her can take care of herself anyway._ Shaking my head, I get my controller ready, and sit by the side of my bed. 

With so many thoughts going through my head right now, all I can think of is the same resounding question, which I probably should have asked Kiara before ticking her off and making her leave. 

_Who in the world names their cat **Wednesday**. . .?_  

Weird cat names for weird cat owners, I suppose. 


	11. Runaways don't Lie, pt. 2 (New POV)

My head is throbbing now. Who knew someone as hard-headed and stubborn as Damien would actually have such a **_hard head_**?

Aside from that, I think he probably broke my wrist. Or at least sprained it. Either way, he thinks I have issues, but I think the one with issues is him, not me. Not just because I can barely see due to the tears burning in my eyes, and am ashamed to have cried in front of or because of him; I can barely think right now.

"I hate you!" my voice rises up and out of my throat before I can even try to stop it. What I say leaves me trembling, tears pouring further out and down my cheeks. I can barely get it out, but it comes again and again. Even though I know Damien can't hear my wavering, cracked voice, that doesn't seem to stop me, or stop the unexplainable pain I feel right now.

I spend a good part of the night curled up by the window, my hair as much a mess as my arms.

As for Damien, I'm going to leave him be. I don't feel like dragging his sorry butt to his room. He can leave on his own when he wakes up.

Time ticks by slowly, the only sound in the room being that of my own shallow breathing. I would look for Wednesday, but assuming that the loud noises of our fight most likely scared her into hiding under the bed, I don't really have the want or the energy to fish her out and force her to cuddle with me–so I leave her be, wherever she is.

For a long time, this is how I sit. Curled up in the corner in the dark, quiet room, staring blankly out the window and listening to the sound of my own breathing. That is, until this little voice starts prodding at me, in the back of my mind.

**_What are you doing, Kiara?_** it questions me.

**_Why are you sitting in the dark alone?_ **

**_Come to think of it, why are you sitting there at all for?_** it asks this of me next. I am trying to think of an answer to give the strange voice, but I come up empty-handed and empty-minded.

"Why should I have to tell you? " I ask under my breath, irritation clear my voice– Even though who I am irritated at may not even exist.

**_Forget that!_** The voice says. I can imagine it waving it's  hands at me as well, as if what it is saying is more important than the questions I have for it.

**_You're missing the point, Kiara! The point here is, That you're just sitting here! You just sitting here, moping– moping! When you could be doing something so much_ ** **_ better _ ** **_!_ **

This catches my attention. As crazy as it sounds, this weird voice in the back of my head... It's actually kind of making sense. I should be doing something other than moping. What exactly though, I'm not sure of. For sure, I at least know that I won't be able to sleep. Though that is not exactly very helpful.

"Alright, voice." I mutter. Again, I am seemingly talking to myself. Being that this weird voice resides in my head, I suppose I am. "Just what is this "better" idea that you have for me? I don't really have a lot of options right now." with adding that, I sulk down again.

**_Of course you do, Kiara. Wake up!_** The voice sounds very annoyed with me now. **_Look out the_** **_window. You see those vines? Go! Go out the window, climb down the vines. Run, and don't look back. It pauses then, then shifts. As if this voice is trying to be sly with me,_** **it then adds** ** _you can take care of yourself, Kiara. You know that. Besides - you know, I bet you could score much better finds on your own, andddd..you don't have to share them, or the profits._**

**_You really need to leave..._ **

As crazy as it may sound to be listening to a sudden and random voice in my head, it does make sense.

It doesn't take too much longer, for me to be convinced to leave. I wasn't happy here anyway, and in all reality, I can take care of myself. I don't need to be babied. I don't need to be waited on, and I don't need to have someone constantly reminding me of all the reasons he hates me.

Since I don't have anything here to take with me but myself, and there's no way Wednesday would be safe with me on the move all the time, I have only one thing to do before I go. Well, two. Firstly, I have to leave the instructions for them on how to take care of my baby until I can come back for her. I would go back home, but that would defeat my purpose of running away from them. Going back to a place where I know I could surely be found, and staying there, is a very bad idea. My brief trip there to retrieve a few things will be my last visit home, so I am going to try to enjoy it for the few minutes I allow myself to stay there.

The second thing I do before leaving this place, is get me a small bit of payback. Making my way to Damian's room, I sneak in. My crystal blues scanning the area for anything worth my taking-and keeping, of course.

I settle on a few things he will not notice missing right away. I want the frustration to be thorough. When he realizes it's gone and I took it, there's no doubt he'll regret treating me like that. The hellspawn.

The thought of this draws a smirk to my lips. to his closet I go, looking for one particular thing. I have been here long enough, despite being in one room for most of the time, to know he has one hoodie jacket that he really seems to like over the others. Upon finding it, it brings a smile to my face. I'm taking this for one, the fact that I would rather be able to go unnoticed when I am not in costume as well as when I am, and I'm taking it for two; the simple fact is, I _really_ want to anything I can right now to spite him.

That, and I will never tell him this, but he smells _soooo_ good...(even if he has been a total ass to me) By taking this hoodie, I will get to carry that with me. So..yay me!

Slipping on the hoodie, I am surrounded by warmth. Warmth, and the same wonderful, unexplainable, but nice smell that comes with it. It is way too big for me, but I guess this just means more warmth for me.

Along with the hoodie, I take a red ball I see laying on the floor. It's random, I know. But hey, it works.

The rest of the night is spent like this:

Going back to the room I've been staying in, opening the window up, and climbing out it. The climb down is precarious to say the least - but the thrill is exhilarating. Being out in the crisp air of the night and feeling the thrill of being somewhere I might fall from, especially with my still healing leg, washes over me like a refreshing wave.

The run across the rest of the property takes what feels like forever. The amount of freedom I feel though, is nothing compared to the many odd, and even crazy, things I get to feel the next day.

**(Crane's POV)**

The need for a new project, a new mind to explore, is overwhelming. I have been through them all, and none of them are keeping my interest. Mob Bosses. Murderers. Only some of them deviate from the normal pattern - _where is the creativity?!_ Where have all the.. **interesting**..criminals gone?

The sound of rain around me is a mix of calming to my anxious mind, and simply distracting to me. The streets are full of people. All people who look normal, who might be interesting; none of the people so far have proven to be anything but boring. My thoughts consuming my mind, I almost miss something that has more potential than I could ever imagine.

On my way back home, I take notice of a young figure, laying on a bench and hugging a duffel bag. By the size, I judge it to be a teenager. Perhaps, even a teenage female. This is enough to catch my notice because I have never really had a chance to pry into a mind of a teenager. Most of my..patients..have been predominantly male as well, so this holds more of a opportunity than I thought.

What cinches my decision to approach said apparent street urchin, is the incredible and ominous feeling radiating off of her. The questions of whether or not she may be cursed, dead, or even some sort of demon, are all swirling through my head. Shaking these away, I shift my umbrella to my left hand, press my expression to one posing no threat, and step towards the bench occupied by the immediate target of my ever-curious mind.

"Excuse me?" I clear my throat, watching the figure start and begin to shift. "Um,..Miss?"

Slowly, she looks up at me. Such a turbulent mix of emotion I have never seen in a single person's eyes before. The excitement this brings me is compressed, as she scowls at me.

Porcelain colored skin, crystal eyes that appear to be staring a hole in my soul. I can't tell if it's just me, the fact that it's raining, or if her dark rain-soaked hair has a bit of a green tint to it.

"What?" she sounds less than pleased with the fact she was woken up by a stranger. The expression I'm giving her-though I'm not trying to be-most likely creeping her out as well. Whatever has happened to her, she seems tense. Tense, hurt, a perfect candidate for studying.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice you looked cold." I state, looking around. The rain isn't getting any clearer, so I use this to my advantage. "I was going to ask you if you wouldn't mind coming with me - I am going someplace you could warm up, and I, unlike the men down the block," I point, nodding my head in some rather unsavory characters' direction. "Won't be trying to do you any harm. " Not completely true. Not completely a lie, either, though.

She stares at me, unimpressed. "I can take care of myself, thank you." Getting up, she grabs her bag. Noticing she is very off balance, I manage to catch her right before she can hit the wet sidewalk.

"Are you sure, you wouldn't at least like to warm up for a bit?"

________

Convincing this girl to come with is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Were it not for the idea or hope of something new to study, I would simply give it up and let Gotham have her. Someone of her size won't last long, no matter how capable she thinks she might be.

For all she, or I know, this _delightful_ young woman could find herself kidnapped, mugged, or at the bottom of a dumpster by the end of today. I do use the term 'delightful' very loosely, mind you.

The entire walk home, she is almost completely silent, save for addressing me only to tell me she wasn't going to stay long. She "had somewhere else to be", and things of that sort.

All I can really do is nod, and let a light laugh or two. She won't be leaving nearly so soon as she thinks she will be. And, unfortunately for her- the only place she may be going off to by the end of my "studies" is to the Arkham Asylum loony bin. (Mostly because my work hasn't been perfected yet, and, that seems to be a prevailing pattern with the people I've spoken to or had as patients..)  


	12. The Scientist's House

Even though I am not one for strange people who walk up to me out of nowhere, this guy doesn't seem that bad right now. I mean, not that I'm going to make the mistake of trying to make 'friends'with him or anything. He just seems..pretty harmless. Kind of creepy, but harmless. 

It doesn't take all that long to get to where he lives from the bench he found me on. (My first night as a runaway didn't really seem to afford me the hideaway I was hoping to find.. So I ended up having to settle on an old, dirty bench. Lucky for me, I am not picky.) Upon arriving to the house, he continues his little bit of a gentleman act, and holds the door open for me - even gesturing me in with a bow and smile, despite the rain. 

"Ladies first."

This, I can't help but to laugh at. I don't mean to be rude, but..it's cute in a way. I am a criminal, not a lady. Either way, I continue up the steps and walk inside.

"I'm not quite sure what makes you think I'm a lady," I say, turning to him with only half a smile. "But..thanks." 

His returning smile is much bigger than mine was, I would even venture to say that it was kind of goofy looking. For a scientist dude, his house looks a lot different than what I expected. He does, too. I always thought of a scientist as being some kind of  weird wrinkly old man, with white hair that looks like they've been struck by lightning one too many times or whatever - and lived in a bland, colorless, imagine-less place.   

Poking at some kind of cool tinkly metal thingy I found, I look around. His house is..nice. It's not in-your-face with rich people stuff, but it has just enough to give it a kind of..respectable..well-off feeling. Something about it reminds me of home as well, which, while that sends a pang of pain through my chest; a bench is lot less like a home than here is. 

My train of thinking is derailed when I hear him speak up again. Drawing my attention away from a comfortable looking red chair, over to where he was putting away his stuff. 

"If I may ask," he starts, walking past me to a cabinet in the kitchen, retrieving a glass. "Why are you running?" he raises a brow, taking a drink from his now water-filled cup. "And - where are you running away from?" 

I feel my chest clench. Very slowly, I answer him. In the most detached, most disinterested way possible. "What makes you think I'm running away from something?" I turn my attention to the tinkly thingy again, only looking at him out the corner of my eye. 

He pauses, holding his glass in one hand, arms folded. 

"Well, for one. You were sleeping on a bench with a duffel bag for a pillow." 

"...How do you know that I  don't do that just because I want to? I could be weird, you know. Maybe I like sleeping on old benches."

"In the rain."

"...Yes!" 

As I insist this, I think I broke the metal thingy, so I nudge it to the back of the shelf, hoping he didn't take notice of it. Folding my arms, I look at him resolutely. "I like rain. It's..good for..plants." I hate plants, so the disgust in my voice must be pretty clear, because I can tell he catches it. Ignoring my protest, he continues.

"For another. If you weren't running, you wouldn't be wearing an over-sized male's hoodie that clearly doesn't belong to you. So by that, I know you must have stolen it."

His bit of accuracy towards me is aggravating. As well as somewhat offending to me. "I could have a boyfriend, you know." I snap, looking off to the side. 

I can hear him laughing. "Oh, right. How could I have possibly thought otherwise? I mean, with such a winning personality and all. Who _wouldn't_ want to be your boyfriend?" his voice is dripping in sarcasm. The smirk on his face keeps me silent, as I am doing my best not to get kicked back out before I have a chance to loot his fridge tonight and take off again.

"As I said, I know you had to of stolen it. The same way you stole that five dollar bill from me on the way here." With that, he simply takes another drink from his water, watching me. 

I'm frozen. _How could he have known I took that dollar from his pocket?_ Even **Bruce Wayne** didn't notice when I pick-pocketed him - and I took his entire wallet! My expression furrows lightly. _Who is this guy??_

"So, you are running from something. Or, perhaps someone. You are a skilled thief, and you take for personal gain. In this case, you need the money to get you food." 

"Unless," he steps to the fridge, pulling out a perfect red apple. Rubbing it on his shirt, he leans closer to me and holds out the shining apple. "My entire fridge-full of food isn't enough to feed a girl of your size." 

The surprise on my face is followed by my irritation. There is no WAY he should have been able to do..whatever the hell it was he just did. 

" _What **are** you? _" I ask, frustration ringing in my voice; eyebrows knit together. 

Smirking at me in what looks to be amusement, he takes my hands, places the apple in them, and holds my hands that way for a moment. I feel like I am being stared down by him. Even if he does have very captivating, darker blue eyes. I can feel heat rushing to my face, and hope intensely this doesn't mean I am blushing. 

"Not _what_ , my dear." he pulled away, folding his arms. "But _who_. My name is Jonathan Crane - I am a scientist, of sorts." 

Taking a bite of the apple, I tilt my head a bit. This would explain the bunch of little science-y looking doodads I've seen so far. 

"Well, let me correct that. " he said, now standing and fixing the tinkly metal thingy I broke. I guess he _did_ see me break it. _Oops.._

"I'm actually much more of a doctor." 

Raising my eyebrow, I look down to the crisp red fruit he'd given me. "A doctor? aren't apples supposed to keep doctors away?" I ask, laughing a little at my own bad joke. 

He seems to get it, because he laughs as well. 

"Ah, no. That's a common misconception people have about doctors. We're not scared of the apples. Oh no, it's the worms that might be in the apples."

I take another bite of the apple, and can't help but smile. Seeing as I guess I won't be leaving for at least the night or whatever, I walk over and sit on the table. It was getting hard to keep myself balanced on things anyway. 

 Finding someone who knows how to go along with my bad sense of humor is kind of nice, in a way. 

"I see." I nod to him, raising my eyebrow. "So..Doctor Crane...what is it you're a doctor of? don't hate me for assuming, but it's not birds, is it?"  

Now Jonathan looks at me oddly, shaking his head. Pushing up his glasses, he taps his fingers together. "Before I tell you anything else, first..I want to know your name." he comes closer to me, looking at me over the top of his glasses. "And..I want to know how long you intend to stay." he says this in a way that makes me think he wasn't listening to me earlier. 

"Kiara," I start, taking a bigger bite of my apple. "Kiara Lynne Kyle." finishing up the bite I have in my mouth, I raise an eyebrow at him. "I'm pretty sure I told you already, I am leaving as soon as possible- or morning, whichever comes first." 

He nods, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. Looking up at me, he now raises a brow. "And I, am pretty sure we already figured this out, Miss Kyle. You don't have anywhere to _**go**_." He looks at me smugly, knowing he is right. 

For some reason, this irritates me highly. I am quiet for awhile, before looking up at him sharply.

"Why did you help me?" 

My voice cracks and comes out in a much ruder way than I mean for it to. My gaze follows him, though comes down, when he takes the apple away from me. "Hey!" My arms fold around me tightly, and I feel a scowl crinkling  up my face. 

Looking to be finding amusement here, he lifts my chin so I have to look at him. 

"I helped you, because I want you to help me."


	13. In the time Since (Alfred's POV)

If my assumption is correct, it has been nearly a week since the sudden and unexplainable departure of Miss Kiara. While I have barely been able to keep this information to myself, I am quite certain there is another in the house who is aware of it.

I have not been able to speak with Master Damien once since I noticed her absence. I have, however, been able to take note of a few details in which only confirm my theory that he knows - or, as much as I would hate to assume so, that he may have been the cause of her abrupt leaving.

Given the known animosity between the two, I am more inclined to believe it was because of some kind of fight they had.

Each time I have thought to go and have a word with Damien, he is either playing a video game with the sound at a much ungodly level of sound, or is gone from his room altogether. Presumably, out fighting crime or gallivanting across some rooftop in the city. Whether or not he has any sort of remorse for causing her to leave, it is unapparent. The fact that he has taken the little kitten into his room to care for does make me think there may be some small bit of hope for him.

As for his father, and Miss Selina, they have both been working themselves seemingly to the bone, as it were. Or, in a more correct term, I suppose I should say that they have been more straining their minds than anything else.

In trying to figure out who the father of her child is, I have had to help calm her many times. She does not seem to have any kind of recollection of who it was; each time she makes an effort to try to remember it, she becomes suddenly very erratic, and frightened.

If I am to call to mind the state in which she was brought to the manor when she first became pregnant with her daughter, I think I could piece together a reasonable explanation of my own. One that would take in perfect account the reason why Miss Selina cannot remember whom it was who impregnated her in the first place. When she was brought here by Master Bruce, she was in her Catwoman suit - rather, what was left of it - which makes me think that whoever it was, had a bone to pick with Catwoman, not necessarily Selina.

As sad as it is of me to think, this is precisely why I hope her daughter has not began to engage in the same criminal activity that her mother is involved in. Although, given that she will be in need of a way to gather some sort of resources for herself by being on her own - I doubt highly she hasn't resorted to crime in order to be able to require those resources.

Which, she would not be having to do in the first place, had she not ran away. This was not a bad place for her to live- from my observation. Miss Selina seems to be quite happy here, and from speaking with him privately, I believe Master Bruce was going to invite them to stay permanently.

While I am uncertain of if I am comfortable with the idea of bringing all of their pet cats here, there is more than enough room..I am certain I could have gotten used to it. Aside from that all; if I might be as bold to think so, I say Damien very well could have used the influence of a female. With the vanishing of her daughter, I highly doubt the possibility of Miss Selina wanting to stay here is drastically low, if even still existent at all.

As I am making up their lunch, my thoughts are bunching together. Sometimes, I come to wonder if I care simply too much for those around me.

While I wonder this, I hear footsteps behind me. Followed by the soft mewling of a kitten.

"Are you certain Miss Kiara will not be angry with you for carting around her kitten, Master Damien? She cares very much for that animal, you know." I say calmly, not turning to face him.

He scoffs at this.

"I don't think she really cares about anyone but herself." he responds placidly, going to the fridge to get something out on his own.

"Very well then, Master Damien." I concede, then add "Perhaps you should ask her. You should be able to find her in her room, should you not? I will need you to call her in for lunch anyway."

There is a silence that follows in response to my statement. I know she is not here, though I wonder if he will complain about it and refuse, or tell the truth. I wait patiently, looking at him out the corner of my eye.

"Can't." he finally answers me, sitting on the counter across the room.

"Whyever not?" I ask, pretending to not understand. "Do you not care if your guest goes hungry?"

I know I will have hit a nerve here, but in wanting to extract the answers from him, this is the exact tactic needed for the situation.

"She's not here to starve." he growls lowly, then adding. "And she wasn't my guest- a guest is someone you want to have around. I hated her."

I note how he is stating things in the past tense, and this worries me suddenly. I turn to him and fold my arms, a stern gaze burning in his direction.

" **What did you do.** "

My tone seemed to startle him, but with me in the way of his leaving, he scowls at me. Refusing for a very long time to answer me, he simply stares at me with what looks like hatred.

"I didn't _kill_ her, if that's what you think."

His answer comes venomously, protested to by the fearful mewing of the kitten perched on his right shoulder.

"If I had, she wouldn't have been able to steal from me."

This makes something inside me snap somewhat. There is nothing but apathy in his voice. I should expect as much, coming from an emotionless person. However, it still rubs me the wrong way.

"No, but she may very well be dead by now anyway, which should clear up your conscience about your stolen items right up." I pause, then continue "I would suggest you tell me what it was that you did do, otherwise I shall have to be forced to march you on to your father. Or, I could have you explain to her mother why she has been missing for nearly a week, in one of the world's most dangerous cities, **_alone_**."

___________________

The truth comes forth from him pretty readily after that. My tone and demeanor, I suppose caught him off guard enough to get him to talk.

Though it comes with much blame thrown in the young lady's direction, I gradually gain the story of why she left the manor.

As well as the explanation as to the dark bruise on his forehead he has been trying to hide. All I can do is stand and listen to his story, doing my best to not grit my teeth together. Where this sudden concern for the girl has come from, I can only think it may be due to how much she reminded me of my own daughter, Adeline. I lost her at a very young age, not long after the death of her mother. This is a secret I have kept so close to myself, the only one to ever know about it was Master Bruce's father. Thomas.

Composing myself to the best of my ability, I nod to him solemnly. His demeanor has changed to something I am uncertain of. The right thing to do, would be to search for her. I would do so myself, but in trying to help Master Bruce aid in Selina's memory recollection, I haven't the time to dedicate to such a task. In knowing this, I decide to try to play on his current state of frustration. A very badly mannered thing to do, I resolve later on, I shall apologize. For now, it is all I can think to do.

"It is too bad such things couldn't be worked through." I start, turning to the lunch I was preparing again.

"Wait..you're not going to lecture me on manners?" Damien asks, disbelief prominent in his voice, as well as confusion. "Besides, I went to apologize to her to begin with- And you know, it's not my fault she was distracting me!"

"Why should I?" I say blandly, shrugging my shoulders. "Why should I lecture you on the way you behaved towards a girl who is most likely dead, anyway? At least you can be comforted knowing she won't be there to distract you anymore."

He says nothing, though I sense discomfort growing.

"I would say the guilt you will eventually feel should be punishment enough," I continue on.

"She can take care of herself-" he starts, pointing out his bruise. "The marks she left on me prove that much."

"Brute force only gets you so far," I drone. "Who is going to be able to bring her out of it if she has another episode like the one she had in the restaurant?"

To this, he says nothing.

"You know, you can't give yourself CPR."

I can hear him shifting now. I think my idea is working.

"And, Master Damien," I turn to look at him over my shoulder now. "You do know, if she dies, not only will you never be able to retrieve what she took from you."

Pausing, I then add in my same defeated manner

"I would hate to be the one to have to inform her mother of her death. Such things can be a nasty and unforgiving business. Either way, since you were so eager to have her gone, I suppose you will be wanting to pick her burial spot as well?"

The door opens and slams, the kitten left on the counter. Looking behind me, I see he has left the room. In quite the hurry, as well. Whether or not he has gone to lock himself away in his room and rid himself of my words by sinking into his games, or whether he has decided to try to correct his wrong, I suppose time will show.


	14. Unlocking Memory Road (Two POV)

**(Selina's POV)**

"We've been over this, already..Bruce," I shake my head at him, curling up in a ball. I don't want to go over this again. I already know, we've already figured out how I got Kiara. We've been over it so many times that I don't even want to see her.

Which makes me feel guilty.

Which makes me angry.

Which makes my stomach hurt.

"Selina."

Bruce walks over to me now, sitting on a footstool and pulling it up to me. "Look at me." I look away, curling tighter into myself. "Selina."

"What?" I snap, immediately regretting it. Lightly sighing, I run my fingers through my hair. "What, Bruce?" I repeat, slowly opening my eyes again.

"Selina, I know you don't want to talk about this anymore. But we have been at this for far too long. Your daughter has something wrong with her. There's no way to know exactly what it is or how to help her unless we can figure out who her father is."

I scoff at this, rolling my eyes. "Don't you think I know that?" my question drips with acid. "Don't you think I know there's something wrong with her?" I snap, my tone raising. "You try dealing with her! I have been trying to deal with raising her for sixteen years. SIXTEEN! _You_ , well. You have it easy. Have you ever had to deal with your son having random fits you can't pull him out of? Have you ever had to be woken up at all hours of the night, sometimes once **every hour,** because your child is having some kind of nightmare that you can't figure out?" I look off to the side, getting my breath hard again.

"Bruce, let me ask you something. Have you ever had the thought "Maybe I should have given her up."? Or, have you ever caught yourself thinking about how much easier your life would be, how you could completely and utterly get passed and forget how you even got your kid, if you had just terminated while you were pregnant?" I am shaking now, and I feel so sick at hearing myself voice these things, that I start sobbing so hard I can't breathe.

"Because..I have," I admit, the feeling crushing my chest in. "I have, I have..and I feel so guilty. I have thought these things, because I know there's something wrong with her. I've always known." my voice grows softer, and I can feel my throat pinching.

"Selina, this is exactly why we need to figure out who her father is." Bruce says, pulling me in for a hug. Pausing for a moment, he pulls away, takes me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye. "I have an idea of who it might have been.. But we're going to need to get you to remember before we know."

I swallow roughly. I know he isn't wrong, so I nod to him.

"Okay."   
_________

It doesn't take long, before I want to stop again. The memories of that night are terrible. The worst night of my life that I can remember, caused by the fact that a prissy little posy got a root up her ass because I helped the Bat a time or two. Whether helping him take her down in her own lair, and personally being responsible for the destruction of some of her most beloved plants was as great an idea, well. I'm pretty sure I have my answer.

"I was helping you.." My voice is soft. Trembling even so I can hear it. "That's where it started." I swallow, my eyes shut tightly. "We were fighting Ivy. We caused a lot of damage to her garden, and I remember accidentally killing a few of her more prized plants. She yelled at me then. Ivy said she was going to have her revenge." Things are slowly coming back to me, each detail etching itself painfully back into my mind.

"It wasn't until much later that I remember seeing Ivy. I was going after something she'd stolen before I could get to it. Suspecting taking my prize was her way of getting back at me, I followed her." My chest tightens.

"It was sitting in plain sight. I should have known it was a trap. It was a trap and I fell for it!" I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate, terror causing me to try and run. Bruce stops me, holding me there by my shoulders. This has been the point we get stuck on every time he's tried to work with me on it. I get scared, I get jumpy, and he has to end up knocking me out so I don't do anything too insane.

Like trying to smother myself again. Or trying to fling myself off the couch in hopes of death.

"Selina. Selina, stop!" Bruce is looking at me sternly, keeping me from leaving. At the door, Alfred stands guard. I'm guessing it is so I can't run away either - again.

Last time, I made it to the kitchen.

"Look at me. Look at me, Selina! You can't stop every time you get scared. I know, I know you don't want to go through this again. But you have to. Only one more time, if you get through it today. If you can remember it all, you will never have to do this for me again. Alright? Now..tell me what happened to you, so we can help your daughter. "

**(Kiara's POV)**

"I still say this is silly." I roll my eyes, crossing my arms as I sit lay on Jonathan's odd little therapist couch. That's what I'm calling it anyway, because that's what the thing looks like.

"Call it whatever you want," Jonathan laughs, shaking his head as he fixes his glasses. "You're doing this to help me with my research on the mind. Remember? That means you have to answer all my questions. No matter how silly you think they are."

"You keep asking me the same things, though!" I protest, my stomach growling. "When do I get to eat?" I look over at him in hopes it will be now. I haven't eaten since breakfast, and that was forever ago.

"When you finish helping me on this part." He answers, writing something down. "Now," he clears his throat. "Start from the beginning. Tell me all the things about yourself you know are true, beginning with your full name."

I groan. "I've told you all of it already though!"

"Yes, I know." Jonathan seems a bit flustered with me. "Though, as I have explained, I ask the simple things first to open up your mind. To relax you, so you can answer the more interesting things." He motions to me to start, bringing another roll of my eyes.

" _Kiara_.."

"Fine, Doctor Impatient-butt." I shoot him a bit of a half smirk, only to see him giving me 'the stare.'

"Okay, okay. No intimidating the patient!" I warn playfully, before shutting my eyes to think.

"My full name is Kiara Lynne Kyle. I'm a girl - obviously." This gains me a grunt from his direction, which I ignore. "I am sixteen, I'll be turning seventeen sometime this year.." Now Jonathan stops me.

"You don't know your own birthday?"

"No. I told you this the last two days we did this! My mom has never really told me a date, so I don't know. "

He looks perplexed, even though we have indeed, done this at least two other days. Today, he seems determined to find something new from my mind. I think what he is wanting to figure out may be something to do with my father. Which, I don't know anything about who the asshole is, but I know I've never once had him in my life.

"Continue.." Jonathan sighs. Even the doctor is confused by it. Ha - wait until we do get to the really fun stuff.

"I live with my mom, and our cats. My pet cat was one I rescued from an alley, I named her Wednesday after Wednesday Addams."

This seems to bring a soft smile to his face, as he is writing some things down again. 

"My mom does charity work. She dragged me to a charity ball. I met Bruce Wayne and his douchebag of a son there. Since I know you're going to ask his name too, his name is Damien.  

My mom and I didn't have to end up going to stay with them until something that happened later on in the night. In the middle of the night, The Penguin and his stupid flock of freaks came in and tried to rob the place. Instead of screaming and running away like everyone else there, I decided to try to take him on on my own."

"Hero complex much?"

"No, my mom was in danger. It was his fault, so I ended up trying to rip him to bits. Unfortunately for me, I blacked out in the middle of it. When I woke up, I was laying in this big fancy bed, in this place I'd never been before. Come to find out, my mom and I were going to be staying with the rich people." 

From here on, I go on to tell Jonathan about how it was like for me at the Wayne place. I put great emphasis on the fact that the only one there I don't have some kind of hate towards right now, is Alfred. In spite of him being a butler, he was a lot kinda like a granddad figure. The only one I have ever had before, actually.    

When I am getting towards the end of my story on how the last few days of my stay went there before I ran away and met him, I can feel an anger rising up in me. I have to stop myself to try to keep calm, as I know the last thing Jonathan would want to see would be one of what Damien called "my idiotic freak episodes." Or, well. Jonathan is weird. He probably wouldn't care, just because it would give him more of a deeper look into my fucked up mind. 

The last thing I go into, since I can remember most of them right now, is my long and extensive history of nightmares. Nightmares, that have killed any chance of peaceful sleep I have ever tried to get - multiple times. Retelling them is almost just as bad as it was when I first began having them, but it does seem to hold Jonathan captivated. I guess I'm glad that someone seems to be interested in this part of me. I would rather it be no one though, honestly. It's nice to not be seen as some kind of weirdo. However, I like locking these things away and forgetting them much better than I do having to drag them out of the back of my mind. 

When I stop and sit up, he's looking at me oddly. 

"What? I told you everything I could think of right now. Is that not good enough?" my tone is left over from my story telling, and isn't really aimed at him; I hope Jonathan knows this. 

"I'm thinking." he has a thoughtful expression on his face, and is rubbing his chin in thought. "I think I might have it figured out. Although, it doesn't make any sense,"

"..Figured out what?" my tone subsides, giving way to my curiosity. 

"Well," he sighs, pausing a moment before turning to look at me. "I think I might know who your father is. More..who _they_ might be."  

This is about the time he looses me. I might be smart, but I like working with puzzles. Sometimes riddles, or even really bad puns. Crazy mind science..has never really been my thing. There's no way I could possibly have more than one dad. I mean, even from what I know of it; which isn't a lot, I know it is scientifically, biologically, and logically impossible for me to have _two_ fathers. I mean..besides!

One absentee father would be bad enough. **Two**? That, is a whole different kind of animal. One, I don't really have any interest in approaching. At all.

"That makes no sense. Can I eat now?" 


	15. A Father Problem

Jonathan has been after me for days. I keep telling him I think he's crazy, and I haven't yet let him finish telling me what he thought about my father..issue. Because it's insane! It's insane, and I have some pretty weird shit that goes through my head. So for _me_ to think it's weird, well.

"Kiara, please. Listen to me. Don't you even care to hear my idea?"

The very idea that I have two fathers is absurd. But the ones he is trying to suggest as being my fathers..well.. I don't believe it.

"For the quad-millionth time, Johnathan. _No!_ I don't have a father, let alone **two!"** I shake my head at him, almost ready to pull my hair out. For the first time in awhile, it seems a lot more appealing to me to be having an argument with Damian. I mean, I know Johnathan means well. that is what makes it so difficult. With Damian, I knew he didn't care. In my opinion, it is _sooo_ much easier to argue with someone who doesn't care about you, so you don't really have to feel bad. But this? He keeps giving me these huge and pitiful puppy-dog eyes, that I just can't keep saying no to.

"Kiara; you do know that 'quad-million' is not how you say it, don't you? It would be four million, if I had asked you that many times. Which I haven't. to my calculation of it, I have asked you exactly twenty-three times." He folded his arms as if he had 'told me.' When really, I just think it made it worse.

"Johnathan; **_you_** do realize that just makes you sound crazy, don't you?" I retort, raising an eyebrow. This response only gets me the same big, pleading-eyed look that he's been giving me all day. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Is it really that important to you that I go talk to them?" I look at him sideways, hoping that my sheer and utter lack of enthusiasm will finally deter him.

Of course, I have no luck.

"Of course! It's all in the name of science, you know." he catches himself, then adds "...Well, it's also so you can find out more about your lineage, Kiara. Even if you don't care to know, I do. I must see if my theory is correct."

"Oh yeah, you must.." I sigh and shake my head, flashing Johnathan a smirk. "Or..oh no! The world will end!" I gasp, clutching at my chest, then falling on the floor and pretending to be dead.

Johnathan doesn't appear pleased.

**(Damian's POV)**

I am not sure how long it's been since Kiara left. By now, I assume she may very well be dead. In case of her cat, this isn't a good thing. Wednesday has been becoming increasingly depressed, and I guess since I've spent so much time with her, it's bothering me. I mean, as much as I may not have liked Kiara, the boring silence that has returned to fill the manor in her absence annoys me almost as much as she did.

What Alfred said about picking a burial plot for her has been stuck in the back of my head. It's there every time I try to sleep; it churns my stomach and makes any type of relaxation impossible. Some days, I really hate how well he can get into my head. Especially since I have been doing all that I can to keep everyone else _out_ of my head.

The one and only person I feel any kind of comfort with confiding in has been out of town for a long time. He said he'd be back soon. It's crossed my mind; I might ask him to help me look for Kiara. It isn't as if I have much else to do, anyway. For whatever reason, crime seems to have taken a hiatus. This only makes my life so much more boring than it already is.

The only thing I really do have to do, is look for Kiara. She's been gone so long, that I think maybe the first place I should try looking for her is at the bottom of the river. That, or the next worst place. As I try to think about where to look, it occurs to me that I should try Arkham.

With the episode she had in the restaurant still mostly fresh in my mind, I'm sure my newest conclusion may be the one that I should have come up with in the first place.

If she **_is_** there, getting her out is going to be much harder than it would be if I were to want to put her there.

Either way, it won't hurt any for me to look. Maybe if I can give her cat back to her, she'll give back what she took from me. It's not likely, but I'll see.

"Come here, you." I sigh, picking up Wednesday. She doesn't purr like she normally does, she just stares off into space. This is how I know that she isn't doing good. I would almost ask Selina about it, though I don't think that would be the greatest idea right now.

____________

Arkham is too far to walk to, from home anyway. Although, I don't think I should carry Wednesday with me on a motorcycle. So, despite the distance, I decide to walk there.

I don't know how I became so fond of this little runt, but some part of me seems to be glad Kiara left her behind. Wednesday has a better chance at life in a steady building, than she does with someone who may be on the move a lot. Provided she isn't dead - and provided she isn't locked up in Arkham.

The long way there is completely silent. There are birds cawing, cars passing at ungodly speeds, and the usual chatter of random people on the sidewalks. Sure. None of these sounds seem to be quite reaching me, though.

By the time I reach Arkham, the guard at the door is asleep; so, I slip in without issue. The halls are long, and dark. They remind me of what someone must feel like in a horror movie. Even the lights are flickering - I know it's because they're old, but it still feels somewhat  cliché. Each step I take is practiced enough that I can avoid being heard. My eyes glance at passing cells, though none of them hold Kiara captive. They all seem to be full of either new, or familiar faces.

Coming from down the hall, I catch a hint of what I think to be Kiara's voice. The closer I come to it, the more certain I am that it's her. She sounds angry. True, "when doesn't she sound angry?" May be a valid question; one maybe I can attest to.

This, however, sounds a lot worse than when she was mad at me. If I'm right, I think she may even be _crying_. Kiara doesn't cry. She's made a point on many occasions of telling me so. I have seen her cry. It was my fault, probably.

Whoever had upset her, it had to be something pretty bad to make her that angry. The only other voices I heard were ones that stopped me cold.

Kiara was talking to the Riddler and the Joker.

_Why on earth would she want to do that?_    I wondered, my brows creasing together. She had just come around the corner, when she saw me. She just stared, seeming to be surprised. Her face was red and streaked in tears. Instead of snapping at me as I expected, she just stood there. Occasionally wiping her eyes off on her sleeve-notably, the sleeve of the jacket she'd stolen from me-she didn't seem to know what to say.

Since I didn't either, I brought Wednesday out of my pocket and held her out to Kiara. The response was immediate. Kiara grabbed Wednesday, and hugged her close. She was crying again, but because she was happy. She kissed Wednesday's head, and scratched behind her ears.

In that moment, it felt like everything inside me that was so full of anger at Kiara, had turned off. Even if only for a second. The way she smiled at me. Was actually _thanking_ me for bringing Wednesday to her. I had no idea she was capable of anything but spite or annoyance.

Just when she looked up to me as if to say something, this other guy came through, and grabbed her arm. He seemed familiar in some way, though I couldn't tell why at the moment.

"Kiara, we need to leave. Right now," he insisted, looking back down the other hall. He seemed to be a bit panicked. With all the training if had from my father, I was sure it would be a bad idea for her to go with him. As erratic as he was being, she very well could end up dead for all I knew.

"No." I shook my head at her, stepping foreword. "Kiara, you can't. Your mother will want to see you, don't you want to see her?" It was kind of weak, though it was all I could come up with at the time. What else was I supposed to do, tell her _**I**_ wanted her to come back? I don't. I'm pretty sure I don't.

No. I, am not the one who wants to see her back. Her mother is. It will also cheer up Wednesday, and get Alfred off my case.

"My mom? Why would she want to see me?" Kiara's expression turned sour. She pulled away from the other guy, and growled lightly. "She doesn't. No one does. No one should. You wasted your time, looking for me." She shook her head, handing Wednesday back to me. "Just forget I exist, okay? You'll be better off. I know you'll be happier, too, Damian." She started to pull away, the sincerity of her words solidifying in her eyes.

This hit me wrong. Why I cared, why I was so bothered by what she'd said, I don't know. I'm fully convinced I am not under my own control any more. I found my grasp around her wrist, pulling her close again. "I can't."

No further explanation could come from me. Kiara simply stared at me, then looked away. For a moment, I thought she may do something rational for once. As it turns out, I was wrong.

She looked up at me, and scratched my cheek. While I recoiled, I just barely heard her say she wasn't asking. In instinct, my hand flew to my cheek. How bad it was, I was uncertain. I felt blood on my fingers, though.

How I could have been so stupid, going to look for her. She wasn't worth my time, and I knew it. Kiara was a thief. I couldn't in good conscience let myself become involved with her in any capacity, could I?

I will never fully understand how I feel about her.

I will never fully understand her.

I will also, never know why when she collapsed at the end of the hallway and fell into another episode - my reaction was to help her.

I have to stop doing that.

**(Jonathan's POV)**  

It's so weird, watching Kiara's reactions. I knew bringing her here would most likely trigger something. That was one of the main reasons I brought her here. It was not the only reason, obviously. Though it was a reason all the same; I do not ever plan to tell Kiara about it. 

This other person.. a boy, who seems a lot closer to her age, appears to have been around for at least one of her episodes before. He handles her with great care, despite the air I get from him that he doesn't like her. Or, he thinks he doesn't. 

I've seen it before: someone who is in perfect denial to the fact that they care about someone else - their actions always betray them. 

As for Kiara, she is squirming around like some kind of mad person. It takes nearly twenty minutes of Kiara laughing her head off and muttering what to me sounds like gibberish, before the other person finally calms her down. 

I take great care to mentally note everything down as I watch from the corner, not really wishing to confront this other male. My silence seems to be useful anyway, as delicate as this situation is, to mess anything up may very well kill her. 

I can't let that happen..if that happens, I'll lose my study. 

Not only that, I don't study the _dead_. 


End file.
